Panchito: Season One
by Nothing Really Specific
Summary: What if a cartoon character was your roommate? This is the premise of a new series called "Panchito". Terry, a nerd with an insanely hot girlfriend, had a great life, a few friends, a crazy neighbor, decent job, that is until Panchito screwed it all up (Season One)
1. Sorry I Burned Down Your House

**Panchito**

**I don't own any of the Disney characters. **

**A shout out to all of the international readers: Thank you so much for reading this story! Your views are appreciated and you help this story get better too. I just want to recognize all of you from: Mexico, United Kingdom, New Zealand, Switzerland, Canada, Dominica, Puerto Rico, Japan, Slovenia, Kuwait, Venezuela, Italy, Australia, France, and last but not least Poland. Thank you guys so much and I hope that you continue reading, it means a lot! I gladly take suggestions, so if you have any, please share and let me know. I want this to be your story too! **

**Enjoy :)**

**"The 157 Pieces of Pottery Story"**

**Chapter One: Sorry I Burned Down Your House But Mickey is an Arsonist**

The hallway at the Disney Studios was packed. From one end to the other, cartoon characters, all the way from Mickey Mouse to Horace Horsecollar and back were lined up outside the CEO's door. All wanting the same thing, a yearly bonus, everyone was expecting a raise, or about the same amount, and weren't asking for much, except for one.

Panchito Pistoles, the Mexican rooster who only appeared in one feature film, who had a pretty stable life in Mexico until he was found in a meager talent scout search in an El Paso Fair in Texas, who carried two pistols, wore a large hat, and sang in his prime was now in charge of the most ironic but suitable job the studio could give him. Firework Technician. Standing there in the back of the massive line smiling, looking like he just walked off the only movie set he'd ever been in with himself as a leading role, Panchito was hoping for more than a raise and an extra week off, he was hoping for a promotion. He watched as Donald, his amigo, walked in with a pep in his step, and a grin on his face. The duck looked back and waved, Panchito waved back and when Donald shut the door behind him the rooster laughed to himself.

"I hope he gets something good," he said, "he deserves it."

"Yeah me too," it was Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, a slowly rising but fallen star, "do you know what it's like, living in your brother's shadow for eighty-four years?"

"No idea." Panchito said.

"It's sickening," Oswald replied, looking back at the rooster, "I sure wish Dad were here." He sighed, looking down at the floor, "He always made me feel better." Oswald began to cry. Even though Walt has been dead for over forty years, Oswald took it hard, for he was the only person that still saw him as something special, took notice, did everything to make him comfortable in this new lifestyle of being a model. Panchito nodded, understanding how he felt, he wasn't as attached to Uncle Walt, but he sure felt underappreciated. "There, there mi amigo." Panchito said, kneeling and giving Oswald a brotherly hug and a shoulder to cry on, "It's all going to be alright you'll see." Oswald nodded, not realizing that he got the rooster's shirt wet with salty tears. "I don't want to go back in the vault." He said, Panchito stood up, picked up the sad rabbit and put him on his shoulder giving him a piggy back ride. "It's dark and scary in there." Oswald continued, "are you afraid that you'll end up there Panchito?" He asked. Panchito smiled, and laughed to himself a bit, "Me, no?" He said his winning confidence showing, "There's nothing to be afraid of senor, it's just a vault." He picked up Oswald again and sat him down on the floor. "Besides," Panchito said, "if they try to do anything, just come to me alright, I'll rough 'em up a bit eh?" He playfully punched Oswald in the arm, and they both laughed. "Thanks for that." Oswald said turning around, as the line moved along. " Eres Bienvenido amigo," Panchito said, "no trouble at all."

It was Oswald's turn to go in, he turned back to Panchito who was behind him, urging him to open the door, "Come on senor," Panchito said, trying to encourage his friend, "what's the worst thing that could happen?" Oswald shuffled his feet around, and noticed that his palms were getting sweaty, "I can't." Oswald said, "I'm just too afraid." Panchito gave a fatherly smile as he stepped in front of the door, "I'll go in with you if it'll make you feel better alright?" The rabbit nodded and they entered the room.

The CEO's office was dark, gray, and rather businessman like. Panchito and Oswald walked toward the large black desk which had a large black chair behind it, and on the desk was an iPod, that was appropriately playing the theme to _The Godfather_. The CEO, Jesse Summers, who was cheerful and optimistic was swaying back and forth to the sweet violins and was imagining himself in Tuscany, Italy. "So," Mr. Summers said with a cheerful voice, "you want to receive your bonuses?" Oswald nodded, "Yes sir," he said, "I was also wondering if you could move me out of the vault?" Jesse turned around, the light from the window shade recreated the iconic scene. "Of course!" He said, turning on the lights, "I'll have your things escorted out right away." Oswald smiled, Panchito looked down at him and winked, "Muy buen amigo." Oswald nodded and replied with, "Gracias Panchito" and left.

Panchito stood there patiently waiting for Mr. Summers to hang up the phone with the secretary before he spoke, "Ahola Senor Summers, " he said, taking a seat in the soft cushiony chair, "I was wondering if I could-" Mr. Summers cut him off, "Mr. Pistoles," he said, clasping his hands and looking at the rooster as if were prey, "where are the fireworks?" Panchito watched as Jesse tapped his fingers on the desk, patiently waiting for an answer, "Por que?" He said twiddling his thumbs becoming nervous and sweaty, "Because," Mr. Summers said, "we need them for tonight's shows and I noticed that there seems to be a shortage."

"A shortage?" Panchito asked, "I'm still not following you senor."

"Oh don't worry," Mr. Summers said, "you will, where are the fireworks?" He asked, getting a bit more heated as the conversation went on.

"Um...they..." Panchito said under his breath, trying to find the words, "They shot off."

"Shot off?" Mr. Summers asked, concerned.

"Si," Panchito nodded his head, twiddling his thumbs again, "they sort of had an... accident."

"Where?"

Panchito laughed nervously, "Su casa."

Mr. Summers rolled his eyes annoyed by the Spanish, "English please Mr. Pistoles."

Pistoles nodded, "Your house."

Mr. Summers smiled, trying not to explode and ring the rooster's neck, "What happened to my house Panchito?" He said, eyes twitching a bit.

"What do you mean what happened?" Panchito said, standing up and leaning on the desk. "I got the fireworks, aimed them at your house, and fired them causing your house to catch on fire, what's not to get?" Panchito watched as Jesse Summers's face turned from a slight red, to an erupting Mt. Vesuvius. "Something wrong?" Panchito asked, slowly backing away from the desk and toward the door. "You," Jesse said grabbing a signed bat from the New York Yankees Babe Ruth team that hug proudly on the wall. "I'm going to ship you to Colonel Sanders and him make a nice big bucket of grilled chicken!" He said, lunging toward Panchito with the bat, swinging with all he had. "Really?" Panchito said, dodging the CEO with ease who fell on the floor and smiled. "If you're going to kill me," Panchito said, heading toward the door, "I want to be fried, I'm not going to go into your stomach as some grilled chicken, I am a man." Jesse turned towards him, "Fried chicken gives me stomach problems." Panchito smiled, "Do you want to know why I burned down your house amigo?" he said, walking over, kneeling over and getting into Bob's face, "You forgot about my birthday again." He said partly lying to his face.

In truth, Jesse did forget about Panchito's birthday, but that wasn't the reason Panchito burned down Bob's house. Mickey was involved in all this. Mickey, being a psychotic loony bin prompted Panchito up to burning down the CEO's house, so that way he can build up an gigantic mansion of his own and fire him. Normally, Panchito was a good guy, with a good heart, etc. etc. but this time ironically enough, Mickey had a gun pointed to Panchito's head. "If you don't do it," Mickey said to him, "I'll kill you, your friends, and your entire family." So, not wanting anyone to get hurt or die, Panchito agreed to the deal, only if he was in the clear once the smoke cleared. "Oh don't worry," Mickey said, "you'll be safe." He handed him a piece of paper, Panchito put it in his pocket and walked away.

So when Jesse was pacing and cursing and carrying on like an idiot, Panchito started to feel somewhat guilty and thought about caving in. "Senor" he said. Jesse wasn't paying attention, too busy running a rut in the floor. Knowing that he wasn't going to listen, Panchito pulled out his left pistol and shot it in the air. "Senor!" He yelled over the bullet as he sheathed his weapon. What is it?" Jesse asked, catching his breath. "I have to tell you something," he said, with regretful eyes, "you may want to sit down for this." He said, Jesse nodded and sat back down in his chair. "Now, what is it you need to tell me?" Panchito smiled a bit, "I slept with you wife Jeffe." This was true.

"Come again?" Jesse said, trying to take in the news, "I slept with you wife." Panchito repeated. Jesse nodded, "That's what I thought you said," he took off his glasses, placing his hands on the desk. "Where?" He asked. Panchito looked at the floor and then at the desk, "In your office." He said shamefacedly, "Mr. Pistoles," Jesse said, with a completely calm and tranquil face, "you've done some crazy things at this studio. You destroyed rides, made children cry over being racists, made parents cry over being racists, made me cry over being racist, hell, you even made your own mother cry." Panchito nodded, recalling the day when he called everyone a racist toward Mexicans. Jesse continued, "You shot the night guards." Panchito smiled a bit, "In my defense I thought they were burglars." Jesse sighed, "They had jackets with Security on the back." Panchito sat down in the chair again, "They could've stolen it." Jesse shook his head, "They had the right credentials, look, the point is, you screw up, a lot." Panchito rolled his eyes, "That's an understatement." He said under his breath, completely aware of his mishaps. "Never have you slept with my wife in the office. Ever." Jesse said, looking serious as ever, "So I got to ask you one thing," he said, getting up looking like he was about to strangle the life out of the rooster, "what'd she say?" Panchito exhaled a bit, "Called it the best night of her life." Jesse nodded, "Really, how'd do it?" Panchito smiled. "Well jefe.." he said and talked about the night.

When he was finished, Panchito walked toward the door, laughing and smiling, "Okay, glad we had this talk." Jesse nodded, taking his notes that he had written down during the conversation and put them in a drawer. "Me too Pistoles," he said, watching as the rooster walked out of the door, "you're fired." Panchito stopped and turned back, "I'm sorry I didn't hear you, what did you say?" He asked. "You're fired." Jesse repeated. Panchito nodded, "Si senor, adios jeffe." He said, waving and walking out. "Adios." Jesse said, looking at the floor seeing the paper that fell out of Panchito's pocket.

Standing up from the desk, Jesse walked over to the paper, picked it up, and looked at it. On the paper were Mickey's plan for the property Bob's house once stood on. A gigantic house. At the bottom was a small checklist that looked like it was erased in a hurry but still visible. Step 1: Get someone to burn down house. Step 2: Kill CEO. Step 3: Take over the world. Mickey's signature was at the bottom.

Outside the office, the line had dissipated into a crowd of mingling and conversation. At the water fountain, Mickey was talking to Minnie about their future plans in their future house. Minnie not realizing that it would take Bob's house to make the fantasies happen. "Oh Mickey," she said hugging him, "that sounds wonderful!" She kissed him, "I'll see you at dinner okay?" Mickey nodded, "You bet Minnie." He hugged her back. Looking over her shoulder, Mickey saw Panchito, walking toward him looking as happy as ever. "So," Mickey said, letting Minnie go and waving goodbye, "did it work?" Panchito nodded, "Like a charm, I still don't understand why you need a bigger house though." Mickey sighed and looked toward Minnie, "All for the senoritas senor, all for the senoritas." Panchito smiled, "So let me get this straight, you used me to commit arson all because of a girl that you've been going out with for _eighty-four_ years?" Mickey smiled, "Love does crazy things to you?" Panchito nodded, "Like arson?"

The door opened, and Jesse Summers stood, eyes wanting to find the person responsible for his house. He looked at Mickey and smiled, "Mr. Pistoles, can I borrow a gun?" Panchito nodded and handed him his left pistol. "Gracias." Jesse said. "De nada, eh," Panchito said, noticing that he was pointing the weapon at Mickey, "what are you doing with it anyway?" He asked. "Oh nothing," Jesse said. Mickey, who was drinking water from the fountain wasn't paying attention. "Say good night you arsonist bastard." He said and shot Mickey in the torso and head. Everyone stopped talking and moving and looked over. The blood was everywhere, and Minnie was crying. Jesse walked over to her, "He was a fascist, racist, arsonist and tyrant sweetheart. Eighty four years of robbing people blind." Minnie sobbed, "He was going to propose!" Jesse sighed and looked at Panchito who shrugged his shoulders looking as if he had nothing to do with it. "Want my advice," Panchito said to Minnie, "take the parrot." He said, pointing to Jose who was looking out the window. Jose turned towards her, "How are you in bed?" Minnie asked. Jose beamed up and smiled, "As the Americans say in their songs, I'm sexy and I know it."He said as a big cloud of Brazilian cigar smoke filled the room.

"So," Panchito said, as Jesse handed him back his gun, "are you going to hire me back now?" Jesse pulled out a pink slip from his pocket, "No Senor Pistoles, you're still fired." Panchito nodded, and with a smile said, "Sorry I burned down your house."

Walking down the hallway toward the front door, Panchito held his head high, put his thumbs in his pockets and whistled. Oswald looked over and noticed that he was walking toward the exit, "Hey," he said worried about his friend, "what's going on, where are you going?" He looked at the rooster with eyes of hope and concern. Panchito turned and smiled, grateful to see that someone was listening to him, "I'm going on permanent hiatus Senor Oswald" Panchito said, feeling sorry for the rabbit he knew needed a friend. "Can I go with you?" Oswald asked, innocently and wanting some company. "No I'm afraid not." Panchito answered, wishing that he could come. "Well, will I ever see you again?" Oswald said, "No se," Panchito shrugged his shoulders, "we'll see amigo. I may never walk this hallway again." Oswald nodded and looked back at the others, who were talking and all appeared to have a life other than greeting guests and working at the parks. Oswald extended his hand for a handshake, but Panchito kneeled and hugged him instead. "I'm going to miss you, you know." Oswald said, Panchito nodded, "Me too amigo," he said standing up trying not to cry. He smiled, put on a face and sighed, looking around the hallway and at his friends one last time, "Well," he said, "adios amigos." and walked out.


	2. The Usual Stuff

**Chapter Two: The Usual Stuff **

**(Spanish is corrected)**

Walking out of the studio feeling on top of the world, Panchito walked down the sidewalk and noticed for the first time that everyone wasn't crowding around him, there wasn't any pushing or shoving to get past, no massive fireworks, no annoying songs, no fake costumes, no dumb parade floats and expensive lights. Just the world, right in front of him. That is if you completely ignore the idiot who was too busy listening to crappy hipster music while walking towards a falling piano...

Terry Dicks was in short, a nerd. The biggest nerd in the world. He didn't wear a pocket protector, or a button up shirt. This wasn't the 1980's version of a nerd. This was the 21st century nerd, the thick plastic glasses, the messy hair, the smartphone with business apps, the iPad in his hand safely secure in a cheap bag, an iPod in his pocket with every single album on the charts, and ear buds in his ears. While he was listening to a song that was likely written by a twelve year old, a moving crew was moving a piano down to the ground. There were three movers, one directing the pulley that was lowering the piano, the other assisting the first, and the third person was on the ground, directing everything else. It would've been a smooth operation. Had it not been for slippery fingers and rope burn.

As the piano neared the ground, the guy on the pulley had to stop, to give his hands a break and told his assistant to take over. Just as the assistant took over, the rope started to slip, being a sort of a muscular guy, the assistant tried to slowly lower it down to the ground, but it slipped even farther. He called to the first guy, "Hey John, I need some help over here!" John nodded and helped his friend lift the piano but it was no use, the men weren't strong enough or had enough energy to lift the piano to keep it from failing, so they just let it fall and beg for forgiveness later.

Terry, who was bobbing his head to the music, was just walking under the piano as it began to slip. Panchito, who was only a few feet behind him, looked up and saw the problem, "Senor!" He said, "look out for the piano!" He shouted, but Terry was listening, too busy listening to hippy music to care for his own safety. Cliché. Panchito rolled his eyes and sighed, "The rooster always crows too late eh?" He said as he ran toward Terry, "Senor!" He called, trying one last time to get Terry's attention, this time, Terry heard him and removed his ear bubs, "What?" He asked, "The piano!" Panchito called. Terry looked up and saw that the piano was about to fall on top of him. So, not wanting to stand there like an idiot, Terry ran, but he didn't run fast enough because the piano was already falling.

Panchito ran faster toward Terry, hoping that he wouldn't be too late to save him. He tackled him and pushed Terry out of the way just as the piano fell and shattered into a million pieces. Terry, who was on the ground, in pain, looked back at Panchito with eyes of confusion and anger. "What the hell was that?" He said, standing and brushing himself off. "Uh, saving your life?" Panchito said, pointing to the shattered piano. Terry nodded, "Yeah, thanks but I think I can take care of myself." Panchito rolled his eyes, "A simple gracias would be nice senor, you know, manners and all." Terry laughed, "I don't need to be told etiquette from a chicken." If there's one thing he hated more than ungrateful people it was being called chicken. Almost instinctively, Panchito pulled out his guns, cocking and aiming them at Terry in one fluid motion. "Say that again Senor, I dare you." Panchito said with a daring, wanting to kick ass smile. Terry nodded, "Sorry, I didn't mean it." Panchito smiled slyly as he spun his pistols back into their holsters. "Como te llamas senor?" The rooster asked. Terry looked at him, confused, "What?" Panchito smiled, "Como te llamas senor?" He repeated, not wanting to switch into English. "I'm sorry I don't speak Spanish?" Terry said as he walked to a crosswalk. Panchito followed him, looking as clueless as ever. He smiled.

"Por que?" Panchito asked.

"I have no idea what you're saying, please, just leave me alone."

"No senor, you owe me," Panchito looked at Terry, breaking into English for a moment, "Now, I say again, Como te llamas?"

"I say again," Terry said mockingly, "I don't speak Spanish."

" No entiendo, no hablo inglés."

"Let me guess, you don't speak English?" Terry said, trying not to believe this was actually happening to him.

" Sí señor, ¿habla a Español?" Panchito asked.

"No." Terry answered, remembering the only thing he retained from his high school Spanish class. "Now can you please leave." He said walking across the street. Panchito followed him. "I'm sorry," Panchito said slyly, "but I don't speak English."

Walking to his car, Terry got in, thankful to see that Panchito was gone for the moment. When he turned the ignition key he adjusted his mirror and saw the rooster waving to him from the back seat. "So," Panchito said, making himself comfortable, putting his feet on the back of the passenger seat, "where are we going?" Terry rolled his eyes, "I have to go to work Mr." Panchito answered, "Panchito." Terry nodded, "Right, and I'm Jose Carioca." Panchito laughed, "No you're not, you're a loser who can't get a date." Terry fake laughed, "Ha, ha very funny, now, get out of my car before I go to a KFC drive thru." Panchito sat up, "Geez, what is it with all of these KFC references eh?" Terry put the car in drive and drove towards his work. "Just so we're clear," Terry said, "I do have a girlfriend." Panchito buckled his seat belt, "Is she your mother?" He asked. "No," Terry said, rolling his eyes as he turned the corner, "her name is Tina." He fished in his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and flipped it open, revealing a picture of his girlfriend. "See," Terry said, keeping his eyes on the road, "girlfriend."

Panchito took the wallet, and nodded, "Impressive," He said, "you managed to hook up with a hooker." He punched playfully on the shoulder, "Muy bien amigo!" He laughed and threw the wallet back at Terry. "She is not a hooker." Terry said assertively, "Then what is she then?" Panchito asked. "An elementary school teacher." Panchito nodded, "Oh," he said, "so she's a crack addict got it." Terry sighed and pulled over on the side of the road. "Why are we stopping?" Panchito said, "Get out." Terry barked. Panchito nodded and got out slowly. As soon as he shut the door Terry bolted back onto the road. Before he was out of sight, Panchito took a pistol and aimed it at Terry's back tire. The bullet went through and Terry stopped. Looking in his rearview mirror, Terry saw Panchito sheathing his pistol and walking toward the car. "Well Terry," he sighed, "welcome to the beginning of hell."

Closing his eyes for a moment, Terry tried to imagine himself at work, away from this annoying, pestering, rooster that somehow crawled into his life. Just as he was nodding off, Panchito tapped on the glass, "Hello, are you alive?" The rooster said, tapping on the driver's side window. Terry turned over, staring at him like he just got out of bed, not wanting to move, "Get out of my life please." Panchito laughed, "You're funny senor, but you owe me one, I saved your life remember." Terry turned back in the seat and sighed, "What could you possibly want from me?" He said. "Oh, nothing much," Panchito said, making his way to the passenger seat, "just a place to stay." The rooster opened the door and buckled up. Terry looked at him, giving the same expression before, "I'd rather die than to have to see your face every morning." Panchito smiled, "I'll buy you a mirror. Now," the rooster said, looking at Terry pleadingly, "please let me stay with you, at least for a few weeks, until I can find a job." Terry did nothing but give the middle finger.

Pulling into the parking lot of Terry's work, the Dollar General of all places, Panchito was thinking of ways to get on Terry's good side. "Stay here," Terry said, "don't touch anything, don't look at anything, don't even breathe because if I see you screwing up, you're out understand me?" Panchito nodded. "Se senor, no funny business." Watching Terry walk toward the store, Panchito just had a revelation, he quickly rolled down the window, "Senor!" Panchito shouted, "does that mean I can stay?" Terry turned around, "You saved my life, so why not." Panchito smiled, "Gracias senor!" He said. Terry turned around and gave him the middle finger again. Panchito laughed and rolled the window up. As Terry walked through the doors, he looked back and thought, _"You're an idiot,"_ he sighed, _"welcome to hell Terry, annoying, inescapable rooster hell."_

Sitting in the car, Panchito twiddled his thumbs and grew bored quickly. He began humming the only song he knew by heart, his own, The Three Caballeros song. When he got to the second verse, he noticed that out in the parking lot was an elderly woman having trouble with her groceries. So, being good natured, Panchito got out of the car and walked out.

The woman was in her sixties, but looked like she was in her seventies. She opened the trunk of her 1993 Ford Buick and started to put in groceries when she saw Panchito standing near her. "What do you want?" She asked with judgmental eyes. Panchito bowed, removing his sombrero, "Ahola senora," he said warmly, "do you need some help?" He asked. The woman pushed her cart violently in the rooster's chest, "No I don't need your help you wetback!" Panchito, who was several feet away and in pain, looked at the woman, "Now there's no need for that senora." He said, trying his best to be polite to a woman who was, unbeknownst to him, a member of the KKK. Trying once again to be a Good Samaritan, Panchito put some grocery bags in the trunk, all the while, the elderly woman grabbed a shotgun, that she kept in her back seat. She cocked it, "Step away from the goods you salsa eating bastard." She said, eyes full of racism and hatred that spanned about forty years. "Whoa now," Panchito said with a nervous laugh, backing away towards Terry's car, "there's no need for violence," he said trying to put on a smile. The woman raised the gun, "Put the gun down por favor." Panchito said, smiling, trying to calm the situation down. The woman walked towards him, looking down her sights. Panchito looked up at the sky and pulled out a Saint Christopher medal and prayed quickly ending with, "I'm sorry for all the people I almost killed." before the woman fired towards him.

Screaming, Panchito ducked, avoiding the bullets. Standing up, he dusted himself off and looked at the woman, "You are one crazy bitch!" He said, grabbing his pistols and spinning them, "Time to tame the bull eh?" He said laughing. "Bring it you coke snorting Villa loving alien!" The woman yelled. Panchito laughed, "History lesson," he said, aiming his pistols at her, "Pancho Villa's dead bitch." He fired. The woman fell backwards into the trunk. Blood splattering on the groceries. Panchito's guns were smoking, he blew it off and sheathed the weapons. "Well, don't want to waste any food." Panchito said and walked over to the trunk, raiding it of its contents, ignoring the dead body of the racist woman.

When Terry got off work later that evening, Panchito was still eating the old woman's stuff. He was just about to open a bag of Lay's chips when Terry called him over. "What's this?" He asked looking at the mountain of garbage that Panchito made and the dead body in the trunk of the old woman's car. "Uh, food what else?" Panchito said. "No, I mean that." Terry pointed to the body. "A dead body," Panchito answered, "geez do I need to explain everything to you probe?" He said as he walked back to Terry's car. "I'm sorry what?" Terry asked. "You've never seen NCIS?" Panchito said. Terry shook his head. "Dude," Panchito said, placing a sympathetic arm on Terry's shoulder, "get a life." He said and got in the passenger seat.

Getting in the driver's seat, Terry saw the old woman's body and recognized her, "Is that my grandma?" He asked. Panchito shrugged his shoulders, "That depends, was she a racist bitch who carries a shotgun everywhere?" Terry sighed, "Yeah, that's Grandma Patricia." He said, driving out of the parking lot, "Sorry senor." Panchito said, "But she insulted my country." Terry nodded, "She insulted a lot of countries." He said, "Blame her for 9/11." Panchito stared at him, "That's too far man, way too far, hell, even Seth MacFarlane didn't go there." Terry nodded, "I did, and believe me, one way or another, he's been there." Panchito sighed, sat back in the passenger seat and looked out the window.

After a while, the sun began to set and Terry was getting tired. "Alright," he said, pulling into his driveway, "do you have any stuff?" Panchito nodded, "Si, it's in a storage unit though, I'll get it tomorrow, right now though, I just want to get some sleep." Terry nodded and escorted the rooster to the house.

Terry's house was plain and simple, a two story cottage at the end of a cul-de-sac. To the left was Ms. Carson, an old widow who believed her cats would talk back to her, to the right was Mr. McFarley, a Scotsman who took great care of his lawn, his house, and his friends, which consisted of two inanimate objects, a rake and a lawnmower. In short, Terry's neighbors were crazy and insane.

Walking in the house, Panchito looked around and saw the typical stuff, a couch, a rug, a table, a loveseat, a chair, a television, a collection of vinyl records, a turntable, a porn collection, possible torture tools near the fireplace which was large enough to fit a burning body, and an insanely large Nazi flag hanging above it. You know, that usual stuff. Panchito looked at Terry as he passed the fireplace, "Um, history buff?" He said, worriedly, "Oh that stuff," Terry said, entering the kitchen, "that's Tina's." Panchito looked at the room again and went from worried to scared, "So your girlfriend is a Neo-Nazi?" Terry nodded, "Her grandfather was a Nazi and so, you know how that goes." Panchito nodded slowly thinking to himself, _"This guy is a nut job." _

The kitchen was typical. Aside from the pagan symbols all over the walls and the candles everywhere, it was a normal kitchen. "Wait, she's a Satanist too?" Panchito asked. Terry nodded. "She's pretty fucked up." He said. "No kidding," Panchito said, being careful not to impale himself on the collection of medieval swords and maces that hung precariously on the wall.

Terry stood at the kitchen, washing some dirty dishes when he heard a car pull up. He looked back at the door, "Oh shit, that's her," Terry said to the rooster, "you gotta hide." Panchito laughed nervously, "Where, in the-" Terry looked back at the fireplace. Panchito back away slowly, "Oh no, not there, definitely not there." The door slowly opened, and without a second thought, Terry grabbed the rooster, who was thrashing, trying his best to break free but it was no use, Terry put him in the fireplace.

Tina walked in the house. She appeared like a normal, non crazy, sane person with a decent job. She wore a white tank top with a blue sweater and khaki shorts along with her sneakers. "Hello dear," she said sweetly to Terry, walking over and giving him a kiss, "how was your day?" Terry laughed, "A living hell." He smiled, "Really?" Tina asked, "How so?" Terry looked at the fireplace and said, "Oh, just ran over a rooster is all." Tina walked into the kitchen, "A rooster huh, did you bring him home, I want some chicken." She said as she grabbed a pot and other utensils. "You could say that I already cooked him." Terry said, "He should be getting warmed up right about now." Tina nodded and carried the pot into the living room, "That's nice." She said and opened the fireplace door.

Panchito was crunched up in the fireplace, trying his best not to make any noise or movement but to little avail. When Tina opened up the fireplace, he quickly got out and shook himself off. "Gracias senora," he said, "allow me to introduce myself, my name is," she didn't let him finish, instead she hit him on the head with a pot, screaming like the woman afraid of a mouse. With the rooster unconscious, Tina talked to Terry.

"Terry," she said, "explain this." She pointed to Panchito with the pot.

"Oh that," Terry said, not really caring or paying any real attention, "he's a friend."

Tina nodded, "I want chicken now, can we have chicken?"

Terry nodded, "I'll start the preparations."


	3. Don't Let the Rooster Watch TV

**Chapter Three: Don't Let the Rooster Watch TV**

**(Spanish is corrected)**

Panchito awoke to find himself sitting in a chair. In front of him Tina and Terry were eating dinner, some sort of white tender meat. Panchito looked down and noticed that he had a knife and fork in his hand and in front of him on his plate was a nice big chicken breast. Looking at the chicken, inspecting it, and not doing anything to his plate, Panchito was disgusted. "Well," he said, "I'm in hell aren't I?" Tina looked over and smiled, "Oh hey, you're awake, sorry I hit you on the head." She said. Panchito felt a knot in the back of his head and rubbed it, "Yeah," he said, "thanks for the gift." He looking back at Tina, "So," he said, "what are you guys eating?" Tina looked at the rooster, mouth full of chicken and said, "Chicken," she swallowed, "why, is that a problem for you?" Panchito looked at Terry, "Are you listening to this?" He asked. Terry nodded, "I can make you something else if you like," he said, "but I'm telling you, you won't like it." Panchito sighed, thinking that it couldn't get any worse than eating his own kind, "Like what?" He asked. "Chicken breast, chicken leg, chicken head, chicken eggs, and turkey." Terry said. Panchito smiled big and long, "Gracias," he said, pushing his plate towards the couple, "for killing my familia, congratulations on ruining my appetite and letting me starve, you guys are great hosts." He said sarcastically.

"You know," Tina said, "no one said you have to live here, the only reason we're letting you is because you saved my retarded boyfriend."

"Speaking of your boyfriend," Panchito said, looking at Terry, "besides working at a deadbeat job, what is it that you do?" He asked.

"If you must know," Terry said, finishing his plate, "I'm an IT guy."

"Yeah," Tina smiled, "heard that one before."

Terry glared at Tina, "I'm serious babe," he said, "I'm going to get that Google job."

Tina laughed.

"Shut up Tina," Terry said, he turned back to Panchito, "Do you want me to make something else for you?"

"Why don't you just try it?" Tina asked.

"Are you serious, it's chicken," Panchito said, looking directly at Tina with eyes of surprise and feeling like he walked into the wrong house. "No me gusta pollo."

Tina, who remembered that phrase from her high school Spanish class, nodded, "Why not?" She said, trying to incise him in at least trying the food, not wanting it to go to waste, "Are you," she laughed, "chicken?"

Terry looked at Tina, "You shouldn't have said that."

"Why?" Tina asked

"I'd run if I were you senora," Panchito said, trying his best to submerge his automatic rage at the phrase. His hands became warm, his eyes began to twitch, and his brow began to move down. Tina looked at him, half concerned and half awe. Panchito's hands twitched, and he began to fidget, making whooshing sounds, clicking sounds, and finally the sounds of a gun going off. He was worse than Mr. Toad when he got motor mania.

The rooster stood up from the table and walked into the living room, trying to suppress his natural urges. Tina, who was concerned, followed him. "Are you alright?" She said, entering the living room. Panchito walked toward the fireplace and pulled out his pistol, he aimed it at the Nazi flag and shot it. "You fascist bitch!" He said, turning to Tina who was crying at the loss of her flag. "That was my grandfather's." Panchito shook his head, "Who was he anyway?"

"Heinrich Himmler." Tina answered.

Panchito aimed his pistols at her, "So, you're related to a psycho loon eh?" He walked towards her, feeling a bit better that he shot something, "Do you have any regrets?" He asked. Tina shook her head, "I'm a Neo-Nazi, I don't give a shit." She said walking back to the kitchen. "Now, come and eat." Tina said.

The rooster entered the kitchen and before he could sit down, Tina tackled him to the ground. "Eat the chicken!" She said, pinning the rooster down. Tina underestimated him however, because Panchito easily pushed her off, "No," he said, "I won't do it." Tina grabbed a knife from the table and aimed the tip at Panchito's neck, "Eat the chicken," Tina said, "or I'll send you to," Panchito cut her off, "Don't say KFC, there've been way too many references already." Tina paused, "Really?" She said, "Si," Panchito answered, "This writer really needs to have an original joke or at least a better one or something." Tina looked at the rooster, "What in the world are you talking about?" Panchito rolled his eyes, "Never mind just forget it."

"Good," Tina said, "because I'm not moving until you eat your dinner."

"Yes Mommy Dearest." Panchito said.

"Ha, ha very funny," Tina remarked, "now eat!"

Sitting at the table again, with a knife at his throat, Panchito slowly ate the chicken, realizing that there was no pleasing Tina and no way of getting out of the crazy woman's path of fire and fury that she had for people not eating their food. Looking like a child does when he first tastes broccoli, Panchito chewed, making sure to do it fast to get it over with.

As the chicken passed down his tongue and down his throat, the rooster smiled, "You know," he said, "this actually isn't that bad, where'd you get this anyway?" Tina smiled, and put the knife back on the table, "A farm down in Texas." Panchito stopped eating, "Which one?" He said getting nervous. "A place called Uncle Pedro's Ranch." Panchito, who had chicken in his mouth, opened his mouth and removed the chewed up meat with his hand and put it back on his plate. "Was he kinda big, brownish feathers, never stopped talking sort of fellow?" Tina nodded, "Yeah, he wouldn't shut up about his nephew." Panchito sighed, pushed the plate back, and removed his sombrero. "The nephew's name?" Tina sat down next to him, "Some guy at Disney, a nobody really, um...Panchito I think it was." The rooster looked at her with big eyes and a puppy dog face, "You killed my uncle!" Terry, who was at the sink washing dishes again turned, "Actually, we just ate your uncle." He said. Panchito looked at him, "You knew!" He said almost crying, "Por que senor!"

"Well how was I supposed to know?" Terry said, finishing his chore.

Panchito nodded, sobbing over the dead relative, "Uncle Vinnie, why!"

"Well, you got to admit, he was good." Tina said.

Panchito looked at her, and grabbed her shirt, pulling her towards him, eyes still wet, "Good, I lost the only uncle I had left and you say he tasted good! What kind of person are you?" Tina smiled, "The kind that likes chicken." Panchito nodded again, wiping away his tears and putting his sombrero on. "I'll never forgive myself." Terry looked at the rooster, feeling a bit sorry for him, "It's alright." He said. Panchito nodded and stood up, "If you'll excuse me, I need to be alone." He said and left the room.

Walking into the living room, feeling terrible that he ate chicken, Panchito sat on the couch and turned on the TV. The first thing he saw was a couple arguing on custody rights on Judge Judy. "Really," Panchito said, invested in the show already, "you should just shoot him, that's what I would do." He said, realizing that his guns were the solution for everything. Terry walked into the room and saw that Panchito was laying on the couch, flipping through channels, finding nothing but Judge Judy and crappy 1980's movies, that is, until he saw his own, _The Three Caballeros_. Terry sat down and watched the movie, it was just getting to the song. Panchito smiled, "We had to redo this scene thirty-seven times you know." He said, "Oh," Terry said, half interested, just remembering that he hated this movie, "why is that?" Panchito turned to him, "I sort of shot Donald by mistake. A little issue, nothing serious, he still hates me for it." Terry nodded, "Can't imagine why, you're so lovable." Panchito smiled, "Gracias senor." Terry rolled his eyes, "I was being sarcastic, you're terrible." Panchito sat up on the couch, "Am I really that bad?" He said, "Let's see, you shot my tires, killed my grandmother, and insulted my girlfriend all in the same day, I'm surprised that you don't have a criminal record." Just then the news came on.

The reporter was a man in his thirties, looking as if the only reason he got the anchor job was because he wasn't qualified to do anything else. "This just in," the anchor said, "news reporter Duke Wales is live on the scene of the remains of Jesse Summers's house. Duke." Duke Wales came on the screen, he was scrawny, shy, and bit of a screw up. He smoothed out his hair. "Local law enforcement say that Jesse Summer's house was burned down to the ground this morning by an alleged arsonist, witnesses report the man who started the firework was a cartoon character who was unhappy with his job." Terry looked at Panchito with suspicious eyes, "What it could be anybody." Panchito said, and looked back at the TV. "Witnesses also report hearing screaming, cursing, and one even heard the man yelling in Spanish. The arsonist is believed to be a Spanish speaker, roughly five feet in height, is a forgotten Disney cartoon with a temper, and was last seen wearing a red shirt. If you have any information regarding this individual please call the police anonymous hot tip line at 555-5555 or text the word "WORD." to that same number and give them your information." Duke looked straight into the camera, "We're not kidding folks."

Terry turned off the TV and looked at Panchito. "I knew it, you're insane." Panchito smiled, "Hey, in my defense, I was at gunpoint." Terry rolled his eyes and lifted his hands up in surrender, "That's it, I give up." He said and got up from the chair. "I'm going to bed," he said, "you can sleep on the couch if you want." Panchito smiled, "Yeah, like I'll sleep in that fireplace," he laughed, got up from the couch and stood next to Terry, "Gracias amigo," the rooster said, with a winning smile, "most wouldn't take me in after one day like this eh?" He laughed as he sat back down on the couch. "Yeah well," Terry said with a yawn, watching Tina go down the hallway, "it's late, best get some sleep muchacho." Panchito smiled again, "Remembering Spanish class eh senor, oh by the way, you didn't answer my question from earlier." Terry walked down the hallway and into the bathroom, "Oh," Terry said, as he brushed his teeth, "what's that?" He asked spitting in the sink and walking back into the living room. Panchito looked at him, "Como te llamas?" He asked. Terry sighed, "I don't know Panchito." He said, realizing that it's the first time he said the rooster's name. "It means what's your name idiot." Tina said sluggishly as she entered the bed. "Thank you." Terry said and looked back at Panchito with tired eyes, "It's Terry." He said. Panchito nodded and laid back down on the couch. Terry turned off the light as he passed back into the hallway, "Good night." He said. "Buenos noches Terry," Panchito said with a sigh as he closed his eyes, "Buenos noches."

The next morning, Panchito woke up happy and content. As he stretched his arms and legs out, he saw Terry and Tina grouchily make their way out the door. "We're headed off to work Panchito," Terry said, "if the house is burned down I'll kill you." Panchito smiled, and sighed with an okay, " Pues sí, señor, entiendo, no trouble, I'll just clean around the house a bit, get my stuff from the storage unit, and we'll talk living arrangements later eh?" Terry nodded and shut the door.

Walking outside, Terry and Tina slowly made their way to the car. "So," Tina said, "why are we letting him here?" Terry shrugged his shoulders, "No idea, I just hope he doesn't burn down the house or something." Tina nodded, "Yeah, he destroyed my flag and insulted me." Terry looked at her, "He insulted you?" Tina paused for a moment, "Well, he called Grandpa Hennie a fascist and a murderer." Terry opened the driver side door, "That because he was one." Tina glared at him, "Stop making fun of my family, I thought you loved me." She said making the puppy face, "I do honey," he said with a sigh as he pulled out of the driveway, "I just can't look past this Nazi crap, I mean seriously Himmler's been dead for almost seventy years." Tina's face grew red and her voice deepened almost demonic, "Hail Hitler, Hail Hitler, Hail Hitler!" She screamed to the top of her lungs, saluting and hailing the dead fallen loon.

Dropping Tina off at school, Martin Luther King Elementary, Terry watched as she walked slowly with her tight skinny jeans and a pink short-sleeve shirt, not giving a shit about regulations, typical Neo-Nazi rebel. Terry smiled looking only at his girlfriend's butt, realizing that was the one and only feature that made her attractive to him. She was good looking, could've been a model, but instead choose the life of a crazy, psychopathic elementary school English teacher who lived a secret life as a Neo-Nazi. Terry was about to pull away when he saw Tina flip off a second grader for giving her flowers, she was highly allergic. As the kid was left crying his eyes out and running inside, Tina threw the flowers on the ground and stomped them into dust. The other kids were watching and stood in horror as most of them had her as their teacher, and were mortified for the rest of the day, hell, make that the rest of the year. After that day, no one even dared looked at Tina, she was a loony bin, and was a complete and total bitch to kids ages six to ten. Note to self, never send your kids to MLK if you want them to be under the wrath of a bitchy Tina, which was all the time.

Panchito walked into the kitchen and looked for something to eat, "Just a quick snack before I get my stuff from storage," he said looking in the cupboard and finding a box of Cheez-It's. His favorite. "Alright!" He said, opening the box and smelling the aroma of the cheese flavored crackers. "Oh yeah," he said, taking a bigger whiff, "this is like food crack." The rooster walked back into the living room, sat on the couch, and watched the only thing that was on to his dismay, "Well shit," Panchito said, sighing as he took a handful of Cheez It's and put them in his mouth, "I'm stuck watching a depressing chick flick, great, well," he said, getting up and reaching for a tissue box that was conveniently placed on the table near the couch, "My man card's revoked." He said as he gave in to the one movie he hated but had to watch because it was the only thing on, literally the only thing, the one movie that makes everyone cry at the end, _The Notebook. _

The first thing Terry heard when he walked in that evening was gunshots. _Bang, Bang, Bang. _Opening the door, Terry saw that the room was a wreck. Bullet holes covered the walls, windows were broken, glass was everywhere, couch cushions were destroyed, wine was spilled, and the tissues, the countless amount of tissues. Terry looked over and saw Panchito sitting on the remains of the couch and holding a box of tissues, his fifth box. He was crying, "Oh your home," he said between sniffles, he looked at the television and saw the credits to _The Notebook_. Again. The fifth time in a row today. "It was so beautiful senor!" Panchito said, walking over to Terry, "It was so beautiful!" He cried, blew his nose with a tissue, and threw it on the floor. "Um, Panchito," Terry said, trying to keep his composure, "what the hell is this?" He said looking around again, "What this?" Panchito said, calming down, "This is reaction to an emotional movie senor." He put his arm around the man's shoulder, "Just think, in a few years, this place will be spick and span. Just like it was this morning." Terry didn't like the sound of that, "What do you mean in a few years?" He said, looking at the rooster as if he were about to shoot him and cook him for Thanksgiving dinner. "I sort of overdid myself a bit." Panchito said, "It got pretty intense you see, I hate sad movies." He walked over to the wall and elbowed the wall. What followed was a series of cracks, creaks, moans, groans, and the attempted strangulation of a rooster, oh, and the entire roof coming down on top of their heads from ricocheted bullets.


	4. Raging Bulls

**Chapter Four: Raging Bulls, Matadors, and 157 Pieces of Pottery**

The next morning, Terry and Tina looked on at the wreckage and dismay of the house. The roof caved in. All because a certain rooster got too emotional over a movie that came out years ago. When they woke up from sleeping in the car, Terry noticed that Panchito was nowhere to be seen. "Good," he said, opening the door and stretching his legs from a horrible night, "maybe he scrammed." He walked out to the mailbox and noticed that postcards to Panchito somehow got in the mail. They were small, nothing really fancy but they did have notes. Terry, half curious, picked up the top one, from Rio de Janerio, Brazil and read it:

_To Panchito, my amigo and fellow Caballero,_

_I heard about your recent unemployment at work. Sorry about your luck, if you need anything don't hesitate to ask, I'm always here for you senor. I'll be coming down for Fourth of July so we can catch up then, I look forward to seeing you again. Stay safe, and try not to burn down any more houses. _

_ Your Amigo, _

_ Jose "Joe" Carioca _

The second one however from Hollywood, California looked like it was written by a drunk. A drunk, lazy, inconsiderate loudmouth water fowl who should be put in a mental institution for extreme rage issues. Everyone's favorite, Daffy, no, just kidding, the other crazy one. Yeah that one.

_To Panchito,_

_ I'm drunk. Ha! Anyway, I saw what you did and it was so awesome! I'm starting to slur and please tip the waiter, less than fifteen percent. Oh, did I mention I'm drunk yet? _

_ Gotta keep this short, this card is way too small, I'm so wasted right now it's not even funny. I'm going to have some quality time with Glitter, I think she digs me. Anyway, adios senor! Keep on fighting or something inspirational like that. _

_ -Donald _

Terry looked at the postcards. "Well shit." He said and walked back towards Tina who was sitting on the remains of the porch with the rest of the mail. "Anything in the mail?" She asked, looking tired and weather beaten. "Yeah," Terry handed her the postcards, "looks like his friends are coming down for 4th." Tina looked at the postcards and smiled, "How sweet, we can have chicken, duck and exotic cuisine all in the same meal!" She laughed, still thinking about the chicken that she sort of missed out on and secretly wanting more.

Terry looked around, up, down, left, right, looking for anything, a sign, a miracle that the house could be fixed, but it was cloudy and no cliché sun rays were going to be coming out today anyway so that's out. Except God is a mysterious worker because as soon as Terry was about to slump over and mope around like a pansy, Panchito pulled up in a gigantic moving truck followed very closely by fifteen other moving trucks. Terry looked up and still kept his face of dread as the rooster climbed out of the truck smiling all the way.

"Senor!" Panchito said, walking over still smiling, "I have the solution to your problem."

Terry smiled, "I doubt that Panchito, look at this place."

"Ah si el casa, but not to fear, the cavalry's here!" Panchito exclaimed. Terry just stared at him, having no faith or qualms about this, thinking that the only thing Panchito could possibly do to make this better was to find a new house. Tina looked over and saw the moving trucks. "What's with all those?" She asked.

"Oh those?" Panchito said, pointing back, "The cavalry senora, the cavalry!" He pulled out his guns, spun them around and fired two shots in the air. He put the weapons back in the holsters and whistled. "Vamos amigos!" At the same time, the moving truck doors opened, and at the same time, a plethora of feather fowl and movers stood in the front yard. Terry and Tina stood up and saw that the massive amount of workers, roofers, carpenters, drywallers, landscapers, electricians, construction crew, plumbers, insulation installers, and general movers occupied the entire lawn and half of the cul-de-sac. Panchito turned towards the couple who had faces of awe and amazement, he laughed. "Easy amigos, no biggie, just a few relatives is all, all 157 of them." Terry and Tina nodded and noticed that all of Panchito's relatives were two things: one in the construction business and two really, really big and muscular, almost body builder.

"Wait a minute," Tina said confused, "how in the hell did this happen?" She asked looking at Panchito. "What do you mean senora?" The rooster asked a bit puzzled at the question. "Why aren't you like six foot seven and benching two eighty?" Tina exclaimed. "Oh that," Panchito said walking a bit closer to her, and whispering in her ear, "they all play baseball." He winked and she nodded back. "We'll talk about this later." He said and walked back to where he was. "Alright amigos," the rooster said, "let's build a house!"

Charging like William Wallace in Braveheart, or the United States Army at Normandy, the massive wave of roosters, chickens, and other volunteers stormed the lawn and remolded the house in record time. Four and a half hours. As Terry and Tina sat there looking shocked, amazed, and grateful that Panchito delivered. Cutting, sawing, and hammering away, the house was slowly coming back together. All the while, Panchito started to sing, "The Three Caballeros, The Three Caballeros, they say we are-" His beak was slammed shut by his Uncle Vito, a roofer who was busy putting up the frame. "Silencio por favor, no one wants that awful mess," he paused, "ever again." Panchito nodded and muffled, "Can't breathe, need air." Uncle Vito let his beak go, but Panchito took a deep breath looking as if he were about to start up again but saw Vito slowly reveal a pistol, which he had in his pocket, Panchito nodded and went back to work at his extremely boring old job before Disney, insulator.

When Terry and Tina pulled in the driveway later that day the house was finished and all but one moving truck was gone. Everything was back to normal. Terry got out of the car first and walked over to Panchito who was smiling and waiting for a response. "Well senor," Panchito said, "what I tell you eh?" Terry nodded, "It looks great. Everything's back to normal?" Panchito nodded his head, "Si senor, I even added a few personal touches." Terry sighed, thinking there would be some sort of a catch. Pulling out his keys and walking in the living room he saw that everything was normal. "I don't understand," Terry exclaimed, checking every nook and cranny of the place, "everything looks fine." Before Panchito or Tina could walk inside to meet Terry, there was a sound of cheering and bullfighting coming from down the hallway, in Tina's room.

The rooster and Tina walked into the living room. "What's going on?" Tina asked. The rooster shuffled his feet, a bit embarrassed, "Well," he said hearing the escalading commotion, "I can tell you one thing, it's not the TV." Tina turned to him, "If it's not the TV then what is it?" She asked, just then a bull charged followed by clapping and a barrage of _Ole!_. Without asking anything else, the slowly temperature rising to bitchy levels walked down the hallway and into her room. Opening the door, she saw three things: Panchito's relatives, all 157 of them, in her room, a bullfight in the center of the room, and mounds of bull crap. Literally. There was shit everywhere. Oh and bull carcass, the sweet smell of bull carcass. So that's, one, two, three, four yeah, four things that no one really wants to see.

Tina looked around the room and breathed in and out slowly, trying to keep her composure. "Alright Tina, you got this girl, it's going to be okay." She said, looking around seeing the yelling, the music, the dancing, the bull fighting. She couldn't take it and walked out of the room and shut the door. Looking back toward the living room, her eyes were in rage.

"Pistoles!" She yelled, "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

"Uh oh," Panchito said, standing at the other end of the hallway next to Terry, "bitchy mode twelve o'clock." Terry nodded, "Best you run now."

"Oh really," Panchito said with a smile, "I'm sure I can take her on." He laughed as he stood his ground. Unaware that Tina was charging like a raging bull.

She was the best imitator in the world, she charged full speed toward the rooster who saw didn't see the oncoming doom. "You might want to move Panchito." Terry said, looking at the rooster with mild concern. "No worries I got this senor, it's no," he turned towards Tina and saw that she was running at world record speeds. The rooster's eyes grew large, almost out of his head. "¡Ay caramba!" He yelled.

Tina, the now raging bull that is, if females were called bulls, ran full speed towards the surprised rooster. This was however, déjà vu for Panchito. He had dealt with this before. Granted it was on a movie set and Jose did start the whole thing by lighting fireworks, but Panchito dodged Donald the Bull by jumping insanely high into the air that only a cartoon character could. So for added effect, the Mexican rooster did the stereotypical thing and went into matador mode.

In his former life, before signing a life binding miserable contract with little recognition with Disney at the El Paso Fair that he was meagerly discovered in by a meager overweight possibly diabetic due to bad life decisions and poor work ethic who still lives with his mother talent scout with nothing better to do than work and search at small meager uninteresting fairs in a small border town, and before he met Jose, for they have met before Disney briefly in a World's Fair where the parrot was sampling foods from Asia and Africa and the rooster himself was sampling basically everything the Fair had, and before he moved out of his small family house in the middle of Mexico, in the middle of a small town in the middle of nowhere high up in the middle of the Mexican Plateau, which in that house lived approximately seven generations, eight counting himself, Panchito was a matador. The best matador in Spain, Mexico, and South America. That is until Bloody Wednesday..._cue flashback music_...

It was four years ago, Panchito was in Barcelona, Spain, trying to keep his winning strike, 999 alive by having one exhibition match, and claim the title of Champion of the World. There was one small problem. The bull was Toro, the very same bull that Bugs Bunny fought. Toro was the kind of guy who was just doing his job, he wasn't a, pardon the pun, bully, just a guy who didn't want to be chopped up into a hamburger. What more can you ask right? So, going into the ring, with massive euphoria, a plethora of roses, cheers, and women, Panchito was feeling pretty good about himself. Until Toro came up. There was no cheering, there was no support, there was nothing but silence. Toro walked to the center stage and sat down. He looked around and dropped his eyes and whimpered, he knew that his career and possibly his life was over. For he looked over and saw the grand opening for a steakhouse right next to the arena with an overly exaggerated large sign that was on large posts, had carnival lights, it was the same type of signs that evil villains post to make sure that everyone knows where their hideout is. That sign, there was even the Halloween theme song playing in the background. It was pretty depressing for Toro, who just tried his best to keep his cool and not cry, but he did anyway.

Panchito sighed and walked over to the sad cow and smiled, "Como esta senor?" Toro shook his head no and did the puppy face, a face that Panchito knew well, his one and only weakness it seemed. "Alright," he said, "we're going to do this the easy way okay?" He pulled out his guns and spun them around for the crowd who cheered. "They always love the big guns." He stopped spinning the pistols and put his fingers on the trigger, again for effect. Got to be the crowd pleaser. "Now listen up," the rooster shouted, "I think it's about time I retire." Silence equals respect. "So I'm going to pardon this bull." Uproar. Everybody was screaming, crying, shooting themselves in the foot, literally, figuratively, etc. It was awful. It was the violent version of Little Women. Everyone died. During this massacre, Panchito and Toro just looked back and forth as the crazy psychopaths did basically everything that you're not allowed to do on television. "So," Panchito said to Toro who was watching the horrific scenes being played out, "¿Quieres algunos churros?" Toro shrugged his shoulder and hoisted the rooster up on his head. Ever since then they've been friends, and ever since then Toro stops by every once and a while to have a bullfighting match with him. Which was exactly what was going on now...only Tina was in the way... _cue coming back from flashback music_...

Panchito waved the red cape around a bit as Tina made her way into the living room. She ran full speed into the couch and landed face first on the floor, buttocks hanging in the air. Terry walked over and smiled as he sat on the chair next to his girlfriend's butt. He turned over, "I think I'm going to like this view." Panchito looked back and smiled, "Venada Senor..um.. hey, what's your last name?"

"Dicks"

"Oh," Panchito said with a small laugh, "what a very unfortunate name." Terry laughed. "Yeah I got bullied in college." Terry laughed again, but his laugh morphed into a sad, pity party cry. "They all thought I was gay." Panchito turned back towards Terry, folding the cape up, "I can't imagine why." The rooster said, as he walked over to the other end of the couch next to Tina who was now seated properly. Panchito noticed that Terry was crying, "Why are you crying Senor Terry?" Panchito asked, "Is something wrong, did someone beat you up, I can rough 'em up a bit." The rooster added rolling up his sleeves. Terry nodded, "Yeah, one person did actually," he said.

"Really, who is he?" Panchito asked, curious, and wanting to beat someone up, something he hadn't done in a long time, and something that he was admittedly good at. He was never a body guard but he might as well have been. Terry turned to Tina, "You're looking at her." Panchito smiled, sheepishly and somewhat embarrassed, "Um.." he started to say, when Tina cut him off, "Don't even think about doing anything." She said with eyes that told the rooster that he was going to be a literal chicken dinner if he opened his mouth, which was open, and he was about to speak but he forced the words down his throat. "Never mind." Panchito said. Turning to Terry and not wanting to face the evil crazy woman's wrath, Panchito went back to the conversation, "So you're not gay right? No biggy if you are or anything, I'm just asking." Terry shook his head, "No, but" he said, hearing noise from the back room, "I think someone in your family is."

"Que?" Panchito said a bit confused, got up from the couch and walked into the hallway towards Tina's room.

Walking into Tina's room, Panchito saw his family. All of them, shouting, screaming, and carrying on like someone was murdered and people were trying to find te perpetrator. All at once, family members from young and old were yelling and screaming Spanish to Panchito as if he were the sage or master who knew everything. Which of course he had no idea what the hell they were rambling on about. Something about a bull, chicken, a pot, seasoning, a delivery truck, money, S&M outfits, and a shady deal with salt all at one time. It was too loud, too obnoxious, and too over the top for the rooster to handle. So he did the natural thing he could. He grabbed his guns and shot them in the air. Natural.

"Alright," Panchito said, "everyone get out."

"But Paco," Uncle Vito said, with concern, not wanting to leave and calling his nephew by his nickname, "there's still."

"I don't care Vito." Panchito said lifting his hand and motioning everyone to leave. "We've caused Senor Terry and Senora Tina too much trouble. Adios mi familia. Buenos noches." He said. With grumbling and mumbling the family cleared out, leaving the room exactly as it was. Toro was gone, the room was back to normal. Everything was fine.

"Wow," Terry said as he and Tina walked into the room moments later, "everything looks fine."

"Yeah," Tina said, surprised that nothing was broken and that everything was spotless, "you're family knows how to clean house."

Panchito smiled, "Mi tia le gusta limpiar." He said motioning his hands as if he were washing dishes. Tina was about to shake Panchito's hand in a job well done for keeping the house in order, when she walked over to the closet and saw a massive wall of pottery. "What the hell is this?" Tina said, pointing to precisely 157 pieces of identical homemade pots that were placed intricately in the closet, forming a wall preventing the retrieval of clothes and whatever literal skeletons that Tina kept in her closet because she seemed like the person who would do something like that. The rooster looked over and saw the problem, "I didn't say she cleaned well."

"Yeah well," Tina said looking over at the rooster disappointed, "get this out of here by morning alright, you can sleep in here till then." She said closing the closet doors. "Muchas gracias senora," Panchito said, hugging Tina tightly, he paused, "¿Discúlpeme pero, ¿cuál es su apellido, es Dicks si?" Tina didn't answer, how could she when she was being squeezed tighter than a child who has anger management issues and is prescribed by his physician to get a teddy bear only to rip off its head. Desperately to break Panchito's hard grip, Tina tried to get the rooster's attention but failed and looked over to Terry who nodded and said, "Panchito, you can let go now." The rooster, who was closing his eyes, not wanting to let go of something, as if he were letting Tina know something about himself, like a secret that only he knew, only said, "Nunca realmente he tenido una casa antes." Panchito cried a bit and let her go. "¿Entiendes lo que estoy diciendo?" He asked with sympathetic eyes. Tina nodded, remembering her Spanish and left the room with Terry following her being confused as hell and shut the door behind him, leaving the rooster to himself.

"What the hell did he say?" Terry asked as he and Tina walked back into the living room. Tina sat down on the couch, Terry sat next to her. "He said that he never had a home before." Terry laughed, "What do you mean, his family just left our house." He said with a smile. Tina hit him on the shoulder, "Stop it Terry, you're just as bad as he is." Terry huffed, "Yeah, says the Neo-Nazi." Tina glared back at him, "Hey at least I'm not heartless." Terry laughed again, this time bit more quieter, "Really, you almost chocked the Baskin Robins guy to death because he messed up your order." Tina rolled her eyes, "I'm very picky about those types of things, but I'm not crazy." Tina nodded, and wanted to say something else, but didn't want to spawn the wrath of Bitchy Tina. Whatever happened back there in that room it changed Tina just a bit, and Terry wanted to keep her that way. "I think for the first time in his life he feels safe." Tina said, with serious eyes and Terry nodded. "Yeah, even if he did kind of destroy the house, and all that he's not that bad. Who knows maybe he'll even-" before Terry could finish that sentence, a loud crash was heard. Followed by music. Loud. Annoying. Latin music. Terry sighed, "Spoke too soon."


	5. Trama, Drama, and Melodrama

**Chapter Five: Trauma, Drama, and Melodrama**

Panchito sat on Tina's bed, which smelt of lavender and peaches, thinking about his life and how drastically it changed in a single week. Monday, he was working as a firework technician. Tuesday he and his girlfriend Felicia broke up due to not being able to have a long distance relationship and Felicia hooked up with her high school sweetheart Butch (douchebag name, douchebag car. Everything about him spoke douche, Panchito called him Major Douche respectively). Wednesday, Mickey threatened to kill him and everyone he knew. Thursday he burned down the house, Friday he was fired, and Saturday he saved a guy from a falling piano. It was now Sunday. "Bien," the rooster said thinking about the past week, " Además de mi novia rompiendo conmigo y va a un imbécil he tenido una muy buena semana." He sighed and laid on the bed, smelling the sheets, taking in the sweet smell of a woman. Panchito laughed, smiled, and cried at the same time. He missed his girlfriend, and he felt like it was his fault. In truth it was, he wasn't there for her, and she left. That's how things fall out Panchito, you should've known better than to drink at that party but no, you had to go drink with your friends and you just had to go to Scrooge McDuck's mansion and pass out on the lawn after toilet papering the shit out of the place, ending up in prison the next morning, and getting your ass fired because you burned down your bosses house. Come on man, I know I'm the writer telling you this and making you do it, but come on, that's just sad.

Anyway, Panchito is wallowing in misery having himself a pity party of one when all of a sudden he heard the sounds of a car coming to an abrupt halt, but it wasn't fast enough because it crashed. Straight into the ceiling. As the roof above Tina's room began to collapse, Panchito looked up and saw that pieces of the ceiling were coming down on top of him. "Well," he said, "time to" too late, the roof was on top of him and once again, the rooster passed out.

Panchito awoke to water on his face, he stirred around and opened his eyes slightly. "He's waking up!" He heard a familiar voice and smelled cigar smoke. "Let's lift him up Donal'" It was Jose. As his friends, Donald Duck and Jose Carioca lifted Panchito up, the rooster still had blurry vision and slurred speech, "Hola amigos," the rooster said as if he were drunk, "¿Qué pasa contigo, sabes que casi me matas bien?"

"What did he say?" Donald asked as he and his parrot friend placed Panchito on the bed.

"I don't know, Panchito, are you okay?" Jose said.

Panchito sat up and shook the dazed feeling off. Standing before him was an American icon and a forgotten Brazilian. The rooster turned to Jose. "I thought you quit?" Jose smiled and lifted up his shirt sleeve, "Nicotine patch." Panchito nodded and turned to Donald, who was looking peppy and somewhat happy which was odd because as long as Panchito knew Donald, he knew that the duck was never happy about anything. "What's up with you eh you sick or just loco?"

"What I can't be happy anymore?" Donald asked, a bit offended.

"No," Panchito said getting off the bed, "it's just you're always high stung is all." He stretched. "Entonces, ¿qué están haciendo aquí eh?" The rooster asked looking at his friends. Donald and Jose, who knew only little Spanish, looked at the camera as if there was one.

"Hey writer." It was Donald.

Yes?

"Subtitles por favor." Jose asked.

Sure. _So, what are you guys doing here eh? _

"Oh, okay," Donald said, "thanks."

No problem, now can I get back to my work please?

"Sure Senor..." Jose started to say, "what the hell is Nothing Really Specific?"

It's a pen name Jose, just forget it, you obviously can't handle breaking the forth wall so I'm going to just stop right about here.

"Wait, I'm not finished I still want to-" Jose asked, curious. It was getting on the writer's nerves. So if the parrot doesn't stop talking the writer will kill him off. Very violently.

"Shutting up now." Jose said.

Thank you. now then where was I? Oh yes...

Donald and Jose stared at Panchito, confused as hell. "Why are you guys staring at me like that?" Panchito said, noticing that his friends had the look of a tourist visiting a foreign country where everyone speaks the exact opposite language that you do at a million miles a minute. "Ugh," Panchito sighed, "What are you guys doing here?" He said. "Geez, did you guys not read the subtitles?" Jose starched his head, "Subtitles?" Panchito shook his head, "That whole conversation that you just had with the writer," Panchito looked towards me, as if he could that is, "our nice, generous, likes to keep people alive writer."

Relax guys. Geez, I'm not heartless or anything, stick to script.

" Está bien el senor va a hacer, no funny business." Panchito said, giving the O.K sign and a wink.

But that's the point. That's what you're supposed to do I except funny business.

" Que esperas negocios raros?" Panchito said.

Yes, I expect funny business.

"Está bien, pero no soy testigo que no lo voy a terminar bien." The rooster retorted.

"Anyway," Jose said, bringing the rooster back to reality. "We came down for Fourth of July! Didn't you get the postcards we sent?" He asked. "Postcards?" Panchito said, trying to think if he checked the mail. "No, I don't think so, sorry, I feel terrible."

"Don't be sorry Panchito," Donald said, pulling out a bottle of liquor that was half empty, taking a swig as he put his arm around his Mexican friend. "We're The Three Caballeros!" He shouted, loudly and proudly. The rooster laughed, " Has estado bebiendo otra vez ¿no?" Donald hiccupped, "I have no idea," he said words slurred, "what you just said, but I'm," hiccup, "drunk as hell right now." Panchito laughed, "After one drink?" Jose nodded, "Water fowl and their booze eh?" Donald nodded, buzzed and vision going out. "The Three Caballeros, three gay caballeros," he said, hiccupping the words, "they say," hiccup, "we are birds of a feather!" He swayed back and forth and fell over. "Whoa!" Panchito said, as he and Jose caught Donald before he fell, "easy on the alcohol amigo." He as he and the parrot sat Donald down on the bed, the duck continued the song. "We're happy amigos, no matter where he goes." He looked at Panchito and Jose, who nodded and stood up. "The one, two, and three goes we're always together!" The parrot shouted. Panchito started banging on the broken ceiling and drywall as if drumming, "We're three happy chappies with matching serapes, you'll find us beneath our sombreros." Donald stood up and put his booze in the air, waving back in forth as if he were participating in a drinking song in a bar, "We're brave and we'll stay so," the rooster chimed in perfectly of course, because he sang that darn thing. "We're bright as a paso."

"Who say so?" Donald added with a hiccup

"We say so!" They all shouted to the top of their lungs, "The Three Caballeros!" As they sang the next verse, the three friends cleaned up the room, Donald making and fixing the bed, Jose vacuuming and picking up the broken ceiling, and Panchito stereotypically fixing the roof as he grabbed the ladder from the closet. They went through the verse, and logically Panchito took his cue to finish it off just as the room was returning to normal. " Ahhhh! Jalisco no te rajes?" The rooster sang as he climbed down the ladder, "Me sale del alma, gritar con color." He put the ladder back in the closet, and grabbed his faithful acoustic guitar, which was also in the closet. " Abrir todo le pecho. Pa echar este grito. Qué lindo es Jalisco." He said playing the appropriate chords and taking a breath for the big finale. " Palabra de honor!" He sang holding out the last note for as long as he possibly could. Fourteen seconds.

"Ah well," Jose said, as Panchito put the guitar way, "it looks, homey." Panchito looked around and noticed that the room was slightly different. All of Tina's stuff was replaced with Panchito's stuff. Everything from the bed, to the rug, even the lighting was different. "Yes it is homey." The rooster said, nodding in approval. Donald was asleep on the bed, passed out from the booze. As Panchito and Jose were about to help their friend up again they heard Tina coming down the hall. "I'm coming in there." She said. Panchito rolled his eyes and sighed, "What trouble?" Jose asked, looking at his friend as he and Panchito dragged Donald to the floor. Before Panchito could answer, the footsteps ceased. "Hello?" Tina said, from behind the door, "Is everything okay?" She asked. "I'm coming in." Panchito looked at Jose, "Quick, stuff him under the bed." Jose nodded as he and his friend stuffed Donald underneath the large and spacious bed with incredible storage space underneath, you know, the you could fit a dead body and no would know type of space.

The door slowly opened. Panchito and Jose were still standing in front of the bed, " ¡Ah mierda, está aquí, rápido se esconden!" Panchito said to his Brazilian friend who quickly made his way into the closet and shut the door concealing himself from view. Just as the closet door closed, Tina entered the room, seeing Panchito shuffling his feet as if he were hiding something. "Is everything alright, I heard a crash, what happened?" She asked, looking around seeing that nothing was initially wrong. She walked over to the bed and noticed the new bedding, "Did your family redecorate?" She asked, liking the room, Panchito looked at her, putting on a straight and semi-surprised face, "Uh, si," he said with the smile people give when they are trying to hid something but obviously aren't good at it. Fortunately for Panchito, Tina was as dumb as a brick. Walking over to the window, Tina opened it to let in some fresh air, "Ah," she said smiling, having some sort of sanity, "that fresh summer air is good for the lungs isn't it Panchito?" She said. Panchito was surprised not used to this nice Tina, and hoped that it would last. He walked over to her, " Seguro que es ma'am, ah fresh air," he said, pounding on his chest with his fist and flexing as if taking a deep breath, " Bueno para los pulmones." Tina nodded, "Yeah, whatever the hell that means." Panchito smiled.

Tina was about to close the window when all of a sudden she looked down and saw all of her stuff was out of the lawn, as if it were thrown by a deranged loon. The bed frame was shattered, the mattress was in a tree, dresser opened, destroyed with its contents scatted across the yard. Lamp broken in half. Antique nightstand that was in Tina's family for three generations was now in pieces in the street. Tina looked at Panchito, eyes flaring up and body temperature slowly rising to the ever so bitchy 140 degrees Fahrenheit. " ¿Empiezo ahora?" Panchito asked, slowly backing up towards the door. "You better run to the oven you sorry piece of shit!" Tina said, as he grabbed Panchito's spare gun which he kept on the nightstand, something that people never do. If there's one thing that Panchito hates, it's when people touch his weapons. As Tina aimed the gun at the pistol packing rooster, Panchito rolled up his sleeves, "So, that's the game you want to play eh?" He said, pulling out his two pistols. "Hands," he said spinning the left pistol and stopping with his finger on the trigger, "off," he did the same with his right pistol. "My," he fired a warning shot towards Tina, bullet just close to grazing her right shoulder. "Pistola!" He said, putting the left pistol away. "You don't want to do this," Panchito said, aiming the gun at Tina, "I don't want to hurt you." Tina nodded, "I know," she said, looking at the closet, seeing Jose. Quickly without a second thought the crazy woman opened the closet, grabbed the parrot, and put him in an arm lock, aiming the weapon at his head. "Panchito," Jose said, head sweating and getting nervous, "save me por favor!" Tina smiled deviously, "You move, he dies." She said, putting gun right on Jose's head. "Panchito!" Jose said, "Shoot her!" Panchito nodded, "Lo siento señora," Panchito said with a sigh, aiming his weapon at the woman who held his friend hostage, "Pero eres una perra loca." He said, circling his right hand, which wasn't holding anything around his ear. He pulled the trigger..._Bang_. It wasn't Panchito's gun...

Jose fell to the floor, his head hit the floor hard, and the bullet was in his arm. Panchito thought he was dead, because he didn't scream, move, or give any indication that he was alive. Jose just fell, and that was it. Panchito rolled up his sleeve and ran towards the woman who screamed in terror.

Pinning Tina up against the window with his foot, Panchito aimed the gun up against her neck, right underneath the chin. Panchito's voice which was usually a nice tenor, dropper into a demonic bass. "Espero que te quemes en el infierno puta loco!" He screamed, cocking the pistol. "Go ahead," Tina said, spitting in Panchito's face, "do it." Panchito nodded, he spun his pistol and put it away. "No vale la bala senora." He said, letting Tina go. The rooster turned and walked to his friend's body. he checked his pulse. Nothing. Panchito sighed, "Adiós amigo, nunca llegará a ser olvidado." Tina walked towards the door, Panchito followed her with bleeding and watery eyes, the woman said nothing as she exited and closed the door. "You killed my friend you fascist bitch!" For the first time in a long time, Panchito cried his eyes out.

Later, Donald woke up, and realized that he was underneath a bed, he climbed out and noticed that the room was dark, candles were everywhere, and Panchito was crying. Donald noticed that Jose was laid out on the floor, peacefully not moving, and the rooster was beside him, crying and weeping. "What's wrong?" Donald asked, "Is Jose okay?" Panchito wiped his eyes, "Oh, you're awake," he said, standing up and facing him. Panchito instinctively hugged him. "What's going on?" Donald said, a bit creped out by the situation. "Is Jose okay?" Donald asked. Panchito shook his head, "Ahora está en un lugar mejor." He hugged his friend again and cried on his shoulder, "Lo siento Donald, lo siento." He smiled as he released his friend and patted the tears dry. "Lo siento." Panchito wiped away the tears that wouldn't stop falling. "He was a good amigo, eh?" He said, sitting back down next to Jose. "I would give anything to hear his voice again." Donald sat down next to him. "Promise me something Donald," Panchito continued, looking at his friend, "What is it?" Donald asked. "Call the police." He said, standing up, Donald's eyes went straight to Panchito's face, which looked mellow in the candlelight. Panchito grabbed his guns and spun them in two revelations. "Justicia debe hacerse amigo." Donald stood and nodded, not really knowing what was said but understood that Panchito was going to avenge a death and right some wrongs. "Whatever you hear, whatever you see, I want you to run." Donald nodded, "Where?" Panchito checked his pistols to make sure they had bullets, "Any place, just go somewhere, I'll find you alright." Donald nodded. "You want me to call the police?" Panchito nodded, "They'll find me, put me in jail, something like that, but I don't care, Jose is dead, and it's not right to leave him without justice. He deserves it." Just as Panchito was about to walk out of the room, Donald stood in the way, "Donal'," Panchito said, getting aggravated, "¡muévase del camino!" Donald didn't budge, "I won't let you do this Panchito, it's not right." Panchito sighed, "Lo siento mucho sobre este." He said and hit Donald on the head with the butt of the gun. Donald fell over on the floor in pain and Panchito left the room, heading for Terry's room where Tina was.

Donald looked over to Jose and realized that the only hope he had left was his friend somehow miraculously being alive. "Come on Jose!" He said, crawling over to his friend, "Wake up!" He yelled in his ear. Nothing. Donald looked in Jose's pocket and pulled out his cigar box and noticed that it was empty, "Empty?" He said, "He never leaves it empty." Donald looked at his friend, still no movement. Donald got up, and helped his friend's lifeless limp body up, struggling to get the parrot to stand. "Come on," Donald said, grabbing Jose's umbrella that was in the closet to support his friend. "Let's samba!" Donald shouted, trying to get his friend to wake up, still nothing. He tried dancing, nothing. Music. Nothing. Desperate now, Donald did the only thing he hadn't tried yet, pull out a Playboy magazine, Brazilian edition that he secretly bought during his trip there when he first met Jose and tries his best to keep away from Huey, Dewy, Louie, and especially Daisy. Especially Daisy. "Look Jose," Donald said, opening the magazine to a random page, "Women!" Jose's eyes opened slightly, "Donald that's a cologne advertisement." He mumbled, Donald turned the magazine over and realized his mistake. "Oh, thank you Jose," he looked over at his friend who was standing there, barely able to stand, "Jose!" Donald said, throwing the magazine down and embracing his friend. Jose was confused but accepted the hug, "What's going on here?" The parrot asked. Donald shot up, and let go of his friend. "Oh no, Panchito, Jose," he said, "we have to stop him." Without any further explanation to his confused friend Donald headed for the door. "Hold it," Jose said, holding Donald back by the hook of his umbrella, he pulled the umbrella and Donald back towards him. "Why do we need to stop him?" Jose asked. Donald sighed, not wanting to explain anything, "Look we need to stop him before he-"

_Bang..._

Terry and Tina were sleeping in Terry's bed. The room was dark and the bed covered ninety percent of the room. Opening the door, guns loaded and hormones through the roof, Panchito silently crept towards the bed. As he got next to Terry, the floor creaked, and Terry opened his eyes, for he was a light sleeper. "Panchito?" He asked basically asleep. "Shh..." Panchito said quietly, "I'll be quiet, just go back to sleep okay?" Terry nodded, not caring if the bird committed murder right there next to him he just wanted to get some sleep. When he was sure that Terry was asleep, Panchito got up quietly and Tina, sleeping peacefully. Not wanting to wait any longer, Panchito slowly got on top of Terry and stood up. Panchito kicked Tina in the side. "Hey, wake up!" He said. Tina snored. Panchito rolled his eyes, and kicked her again, " ¡Despierta!" He said, almost shouting. Tina turned over and looked at him. "What do you want Panchito?" She asked. "Yeah," Terry added, "get on with it, soon if possible." Panchito nodded. "Por supuesto señor, estaré en mi camino, tan pronto como mato a su novia." Terry moaned, tired of the Spanish. "Quit the Spanish please! English!" He yelled. "I'll leave," Panchito translated, "just as soon as I kill your girlfriend." Terry rolled over, "Go ahead," he said, still asleep, "you'll be doing me a favor." Panchito nodded, "Glad you see it that way senor." He said. "Any last words senora?" He asked Tina who said, "Do your worst." Panchito smiled and shot her in the foot. She screamed which woke Terry. "What the hell!" He shouted, "You shot me!" Tina shouted in pain, Panchito nodded, "Si, next one goes through your head you fascist motherfucker!" He shouted. "What is going on!" Terry shouted, trying to match. Panchito, who wasn't paying attention to him simply said, "Shut up Terry, stay out of this." He looked back at Tina who was trying to move but couldn't because of a hot lead bullet in her foot. "Any last words?" He said demonically. "W-what do you want from me?" Tina said, crying and deathly afraid of the rooster. Panchito leaned down in her face, he smiled and turned his head to the side, like a crazy person would. His eyes followed down Tina's body and aimed his gun at Tina's right arm. "Do you know what a Colt .45 revolver bullet does this close to its target?" He asked with a sly devilish smile. "No." Tina said, "what are you going to do to me?" She said, crying. Panchito got next to her face, gun still aimed at her arm, he whispered in her ear, "You right handed?" He said. Tina nodded. Panchito smiled and shot her arm. Tina screamed and Terry watched as Panchito lost his mind. As Terry was dialing the hospital number, a knock at the door was heard. "Panchito!" It was Donald. "Si?" Panchito asked rushing to the door. "Jose is alive." Donald said. "Really?" Panchito said. "Yes Panchito, I'm alive!" Jose shouted from the other room for he was still too weak to walk. Panchito took a sigh of relief. "Yes police," Terry said, "I need a patrol car right away...my girlfriend has been shot...by who? A rooster." Laughing. "I'm serious, his name is Panchito Pistoles...yes, the same...oh really... that's interesting...well I also need an ambulance...five minutes? Alright thank you." Terry hung up the phone. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He said looking at Tina. "You shot my girlfriend?" Panchito laughed nervously, "Well you see, I thought my friend was dead you see and I-" Terry got out of bed and turned on the light. "I'm going to kill you." He said, walking causally towards the living room, "Follow me." Panchito nodded, a big, heavy knot grew in his throat.

Panchito was told to wait in the living by the fireplace. Terry went to get a few things. As he was gone, Donald and Jose slowly came in the room. "What's he doing?" Donald asked. "No se." Panchito said, shrugging his shoulders. "The police is on the way." He added. "The police?" Jose asked, a bit shocked, "What did you do?" Tina, who could hear the conversation, "The bastard shot me...twice!" She shouted. "Yep," Terry said coming back in the room with rope, "and he's going to be cooked twice." He said, stepping the room seeing Donald and Jose near the rooster. "Shit." He said, sighing heavily. "You weren't kidding weren't you?" Terry saw Jose's arm in the sling. "See, I told you, she is one crazy bitch." Panchito said.

"I heard that." Tina said.

The police and ambulance sirens were approaching. "What can we do?" Jose said, "Nothing Jose," Terry said, "I'm sorry Panchito." Panchito nodded and hung his head, "I didn't want to have to expand my criminal record into the United States but hey, whatever right?" The rooster sighed and walked towards the door, accepting his fate. A knock at the door. "This is the police, come out with your hands up!" A policeman shouted. Panchito was about to open the door. "Wait, stop!" Terry said walking over in front of him. "I don't understand, why are you doing this?" Panchito said. Terry sighed, "I can't believe I'm doing this, but as much of a pain in the ass you are, you're alright." He said, Panchito smiled. "Gracias senor, but what about Tina?" He asked. Terry smiled, "Don't worry, I have an idea." Panchito's eyes grew eager, "Great, let's hear it eh?" Terry nodded, "Give me your shirt." Panchito was confused, "My shirt?" He said. Terry nodded. "Just trust me." Panchito gulped, not wanting to give up his favorite shirt, he had others, exactly the same color, but this one was special, it was the one that he wore when he met Donald and Jose. He also didn't want to go to prison so he complied. Giving his shirt to Terry, Panchito climbed into the fireplace, a bit self conscious of himself. "I'll just be here if that's okay." Jose and Donald laughed, "How ironic can you get?" Jose said. "Now," Terry said, "here's what you guys need to do." Donald and Jose huddled up with Terry as the brilliant plan unfolded. Panchito, who was listening to this was smiling and laughed quietly, "Muy bien senor, estoy impresionado."

The policeman kicked down the door. All at once, an entire patrol flooded the room. Sitting on the couch was Jose, dressed in drag, and Donald was near a tissue box, used tissues were everywhere. Both of them were crying. "Are you hurt ma'am?" The police officer who kicked down the door asked, whose name was Dave. "I think so." Jose said, putting on his best female voice. "I might've taken a bullet, but I can't be sure, everything is so fuzzy." He said, pretending to be a diva. Donald, who in his mind was rolling his eyes, continued crying. "Don't worry ma'am." Dave said, "Everything is going to be okay." Jose smiled, "Oh thank you!" He said hugging the police officer. Dave blushed, "Well ma'am, glad to see your okay, but we're here to find the man who did this to you." Dave looked at Donald, "Are you Terry Dick?" He said with a laugh, "It's plural." Donald corrected. "Oh," Dave said still smiling, "You have more?" Donald rolled his eyes and stood up, "It's a family name." Dave nodded. "Where is he sir?" Donald cleared his throat, "Right here sir, the blood is everywhere, sorry about the mess." He said, fake crying, leading Dave into Terry's room.

Inside the room, Tina's mouth was bound up by two pieces of an orange serving plate that was smashed in half and put together to look like a beak which was closed shut. She wore Panchito's shirt and her hands were tied up, she was asleep. Terry was standing near the bed, "Is that him?" Dave said quietly, trying not to wake Tina. Terry nodded. Dave mimicked Terry's nod and picked Tina up via the fireman's carry. As he did he noticed that her foot was bleeding. "Explain how that happened?" Dave asked. Terry nodded, "He tried to kill the others, hi I'm Maine." He said, using his middle name, "Family friend, terrible. This guy ought to be put in a mental hospital." Dave smiled, "Don't worry, he'll be going somewhere worse than that." He said as he carried Tina out the door, "Really," Terry said, "Where?" Dave laughed, "Where else? Black Dolphin Prison." Terry was surprised, "Russia, isn't that a little harsh?" Dave shook his head. "Not for this nut case." He said as he walked out the front door, as he did so however, he accidently bumped Tina into the wall and she woke up. Looking around and then at herself she noticed that she was being fireman carried by a police officer. She kicked and screamed like a banshee. "Oh no you don't," Dave said as he put her in the car, "you're coming with me." He said as he shut the car door on her. Tina looked back towards the house and saw Terry smiling just as Panchito was getting out of the fireplace. Tina's eyes grew big with surprise. "Officer!" She screamed, "That's him! Over there, that's Panchito!" Dave who was walking to the driver's seat looked over and saw nothing, "Don't try me Pistoles, I know you're type." Tina gulped, "My type?" Dave nodded as he entered the car and looked at her, "The kind that escape, you're wanted in Mexico for smuggling salt across the border." Tina looked back and saw that Panchito was waving to her from the window. She wiggled her hands free and removed the makeshift beak. "Look I'm telling you I'm not him, he's right there!" Tina persisted, she looked over saw was Panchito sitting in the front yard on all fours, like a dog would, "Bark! Bark!" He said imitating a dog as he wagged his tail feathers for effect. Hoping that the officer would buy it. "Oh you've got to be joking." Tina said as she rolled her eyes. Officer Dave heard the barking and looked over, "Hey it's Buster!" He said. "Buster?" Tina asked. "Mr. McFarley's rooster, helps him wake up in the morning." He grabbed a bag of corn, "Here you go boy," he said as he threw the bag on the lawn. Panchito, playing along, hobbled on over to the bag and pecked at it. Dave smiled and laughed, "Good old Buster always the comedian," he laughed, "well, downtown we go." He said as he started the car. Tina looked down at Panchito, "When I get out I'm going to kill you, understand?" Panchito stopped pecking, "Entendido señora." He said, as the car drove off. When he couldn't see Dave anymore Panchito stood up and waved, " Adiós mujer loca!"

Panchito shut the door when he walked back in the house. "Well is she gone?" Terry asked. Panchito nodded, "Oh yeah, she's gone!" He said walking over to the stereo and pressing play on the CD player. Macarena. Classic. As soon as the music started, Panchito started dancing the famous dance, with his own little twists. He even sang the song. Jose and Donald joined in. "Come on Senor Terry!" Panchito said urging him on. Terry sighed, smiled, and gave in, "What the hell." He said and joined in.


	6. The Security of Being a Douchebag

**Panchito **

_"This Is For George" _

**Chapter One: The Security of Being a Douchebag**

The next morning, Terry found himself asleep on the couch with a red solo cup in his hand. Looking around, he saw that red solo cups were everywhere, and he smelled coffee. "Panchito," He sighed, eyes half open, "What are you doing?" He said. Unbeknownst to him, Jose was in the kitchen brewing up the coffee, whistling an old Brazilian tune that he knew from his childhood. Panchito was passed out on the floor in a sea of Jarritos orange soda, a popular Mexican beverage. Donald was snoring away with his booze in the chair. Terry sat up and shook his head around to wake himself up. "Jose," he said sluggishly. "What's cookin'?" Terry asked. Jose laughed, as he flipped pancakes in the kitchen, "As Panchito would say, muy bien amigo! I see you studied up on me." Terry smiled as he walked in the kitchen.

Jose was flipping pancakes and making coffee, as well as washing a few dishes. Terry was impressed that the parrot was doing this all at once. "Impressive." Terry said. Jose smiled, "When you live by yourself, you tend to pick up on things." He said as he handed Terry a cup of coffee. Terry took a sip. The coffee was nothing like he'd ever tasted before, it was magical. The taste of pure cocoa bean and rich flavor reminded Terry of Rio de Janerio. He was about to have a drunken pink elephants moment when Jose snapped his fingers, "You like yes?" He asked. Terry nodded, "It's amazing, how do you make this?" Jose smiled, "As you Americans say, a magician never reveals his secrets." He said as he checked his sleeves like a Broadway magician would. "But," Jose added, "none said anything about a sneak peek." He said as he pulled a small bean from the inside of his sleeve. He dropped it in the water that he was using for the coffee. "Watch this." The parrot said. Terry watched as Jose performed his magic, like he had done before. Jose whistled the tune he did before and within moments the bean poured out from its inside a sweet aroma of Brazil that Terry had come to fall in euphoria with. Terry was speechless, "Wow, that incredible." Jose nodded as he balanced a plate of pancakes on his hand, "Here," he said, pulling another bean from his pocket, "a gift." He threw it towards Terry who caught it. "Anything I should do with it?" Jose signaled for him to wait a moment as he put the plate of pancakes on the table. "Just one thing senor," the parrot said, "never put it in the ground, it'll sprout up fields upon fields of coca trees. Isso não é bom meu amigo." Terry nodded sitting down at the table, just as he did, Jose threw some plates on the table, four of them all perfectly which made sense because in his former life he was a waiter as well as a concierge in Memphis but Jose tries to forget that part about his life.

It wasn't pretty. Mostly because it involved a relationship. But hey, he should've known better than to call his girlfriend and tell him that he moved to America, and that he'll probably never see her again unless she came with him, and of course he knew better than to give his number to a girl who needed help with counseling, for he was very good with these types of things, completely unaware that the woman was a mafia wife, unaware that Jose's girlfriend was coming in the hotel just as Jose gave the mysterious woman his number. He should've known better than to tell Marie to meet him upstairs after he finishes some business, he should've known better than to let the woman seduce him into following her to a mafia meeting. He should've known better than to sell drugs in order to stay alive. He should've known better than to leave Marie for some mafia slut. But sadly, Jose, the suave gentleman had a fatal flaw, and it was being too nice way too often.

Panchito and Donald quickly came after the smell of pancakes. As everyone was served and sat down to eat, they took the time to get to know each other a little bit better, as if Panchito, Donald, and Jose really needed to, they were The Three Caballeros after all.

"So Terry," Jose asked sitting down finally for the first time in several hours, "what's cookin'?" He said with a smile as he nudged his shoulder. Terry laughed a bit, "Just wondering," he said, "why were are there red solo cups everywhere?" He looked around the table and noticed that the birds were all looking at each other, afraid to answer. "You missed the party," Donald said, "it was pretty wild." Terry smiled, "Really, wild as in a frat party?" He turned to Panchito who just looked back, "We can play the staring contest game all you want senor, you're going to lose." Terry nodded, "Really, try me, I bet I win." Panchito looked Terry dead in the eye as the clock ticked away. One minute. Two. Three. Four. After five things started to go south, Panchito's eyes began to water, while Terry just kept on staring, years of video games, strip clubs, and Playboy magazine stashes saw to that. "Give up yet?" Panchito laughed, "¿Ríndase? ¡nunca!" The rooster shouted. "I don't know," Donald said, inspecting Terry's eyes that were dead locked, "he looked pretty determined." Panchito's eyes began twitch, "So am I." He said, tying his best after almost ten minutes, straining and fighting to keep going. Finally, after eleven gruesome minutes of staring, Panchito blinked. Terry smiled. "Told ya."

"Yeah well," Panchito said rubbing his eyes, "you just got lucky this time."

Terry laughed as his watch beeped, signaling him to get to work. "Oh, I'm running late, thanks for breakfast Jose, keep these two in line while I'm gone." He said as he exited the kitchen, practically ran through the living room and out the door. Jose followed him, "Você é bem-vindo, e não se preocupe eu vou tomar cuidado com esses dois!" He shouted. Terry laughed having no idea what was said, "I'll take that as a yes then!" He said as he got into the car and drove speedily off to work. Jose sighed and waved goodbye to his new found friend, "As the Americans say, they grow up so fast." He chuckled and went back inside.

Terry walked into the Dollar General Store, dawning his black shirt, khakis, and nametag. He clocked in at 9:07, seven minutes late. His boss, Florence, was a portly, bitter, beady eyed, high pitched, falsetto singing soprano, knew the woman part of the tango, Brooklyn native, man. Florence hated his name, his preferred name was George. His middle name. He also had a last name which he hated, Pork, due to many reasons. He ate a lot, he drank a lot, he smoked a lot, and he sat around a lot. He didn't exercise, he didn't eat a well balanced diet, Weight Watchers would be all over him, PETA would want to capture him, he was utterly sickening and disgusting. He didn't carry himself well at all, for today he wore a vomit stained black shirt, way too small khakis that he probably stole from the children's section of Macy's to make himself feel better about his weight that he miraculously fit through, and his nametag he stole from Wal-Mart. Felipe Johnson.

For the lack of confusion here, the author would like to point out that from this point onward, Terry's boss will be called George but will also be called Felipe Johnson Pork Florence, and the author would like to note that this is the same person.

On this fine morning, George was drunk. Deadbeat, about to keel over drunk. Terry walked over to his register, turned on the light, and turned on the cash register. "You're late Dick!" George screamed who was practically three feet away. Terry nodded, "Yes sir, sorry sir." George stood up, nearly falling over, and staggered to Terry's register, "You're a piece of shit aren't you Dick?" Terry sighed, not wanting to deal with his fat, rude, drunk boss today. "It's plural sir," He said, "and I think you need to look in the mirror." George stared at him, "Was that a fat joke?" Terry looked at him confused, "Um, no, it was a get out of my face you rude, inconsiderate, drunk joke. Now stand up, clean up, and go to your office George, you had a long night and I don't want to see you get hurt." He said as he helped his gigantic boss to his feet and across the store to his small, boring office. In truth, Terry didn't give a shit about his boss, he just played it off long enough to get paid and get out of this crap heap. He hated the Dollar General. He hated his boss. He hated that his girlfriend was most likely in Russia by now. and he hated the fact that most likely two of three obnoxious, rambunctious birds were ruining his house. _At least Jose could clean up after himself_. Terry thought, but then he realized something, Panchito and Donald were there and Jose could only do so much...

Sadly, Terry's thought of Jose taking care and cleaning after himself only went so far as to clean after breakfast. Besides that, Jose was a jokester, but Panchito was the party animal. Donald was the sane one, an attendee of AA meetings maybe, but still sane, you know, since he wasn't sparking the flame of an incoming train wreck...

"Um fellas, maybe we shouldn't do that..." Donald said as his friends were taking down Tina's Neo-Nazi stuff. "What you're a Neo-Nazi now?" Jose said, as he grabbed the Nazi flag and put it in the fireplace. Panchito and Jose smiled, " Cenizas!" The rooster shouted, "Jose, grab everything else." Panchito commanded as he and Jose took everything that was Nazi related and put in the fireplace. When they were done they took a step back and saw the fireplace, that was normal and looked sane as opposed to a crazy deranged psychopath. "What if Tina comes back and sees her stuff gone?" Donald asked worried about the woman's wrath. "Relax Donal'" Panchito said, "She is far away in Siberia." He smiled as he started to pick up the red solo cups. "What's Siberia?" Jose asked. "Siberia is in Russia Jose." Panchito said as he made his way into the kitchen to throw away the red solo cups. Jose nodded as he turned on the television to The History Channel. There was a documentary on Nazi Germany, _The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich_. "What are you watching?" Panchito asked as he stepped back into the living room. "Shh..." Jose said, "Be quiet." Panchito sat down next to him and watched. Donald, who had seen this documentary, and didn't want to witness it again, walked toward the door, "I'm going out guys, I'll see you later." Panchito and Jose looked over, feeling as if watching TV had caused their friend to leave, "Where are you going?" Jose asked. "The museum." Donald replied. "Okay then," Panchito said, turning the TV off, "let's go then."

Walking down the sidewalk downtown, the three friends noticed that everyone was happy, the sun was shining, and the birds were singing...they were singing. Panchito brought along his Spanish guitar, which he dubbed "Héroe Soul" for no particular reason other than he just liked the sound of it. He started playing _Pure Paradise_ by artist Armik, a popular Spanish acoustic solo that complicated chords, rapid tempos, Spanish influence and many percussion instruments that Jose graciously provided. Donald expertly did the samba, and you would've thought that the World's Fair was in town. It was beautifully done, and those who were on the sidewalk cheered and danced along to the music. When the routine was over, the parading trio was in front of the museum, Panchito put Héroe Soul away and the crowd that followed cheered. They all took a bow and a wave, Panchito waved with his hat, "Gracias amigos, agradecemos el apoyo que un día bendito!"

Museum security was a nightmare. Jose and Donald were fine, but as you can imagine Panchito had a hard time. "I have a carry and conceal license." Panchito kept insisting to security guard, who was a bitter, older woman with better things to do, "I'm sorry sir," she said in a non enthusiastic voice that would make Ben Stein look like he's the lead in a Broadway musical about a high school teenage drama nonsense. "Weapons are not permitted unless you are a public official." Panchito rolled his eyes, "Is there any other way I could-"

"Panchito just give it up, they're going to be fine." Jose said, urging his friend to go through so that way they can get going with their tour. Panchito nodded, "Un momento por favor!" He shouted. "Excuse me sir," the security guard said, "I'm going to direct you to the foreign languages department." Panchito stared at her, confused, "Foreign languages?" The security guard nodded, "I don't speak Spanish." Panchito sighed heavily, shrugged his shoulders and complied, "Okay I'll go." He looked over at Jose, "I'll see you guys later okay. Don't wait for me!" Jose and Donald nodded, "Don't worry, we'll be right here." Jose said, staring at Donald, knowing that he wanted to get going as soon as possible.

The Foreign Languages Department was a large desk, managing it was Tanager who was appropriately named because he was a Red Tanager, a smaller bird a native of Mexico. He was red, with black and white wings, and very anatomically correct as opposed to Panchito. Tanager was filing papers when he saw Panchito walk up to the counter. "Pistoles?" He said in his deep raspy voice. "Tanager?" Panchito asked, "Is it really you?" He said, making sure that it was him. "It's me!" Tanager said extending his wings excitedly. "It's great to see you again!" Panchito said embracing his long lost friend, "¿Cómo están los niños? Jodi y Louie, comportarse así?" Panchito asked. "Ah, echan de menos a su Padrino Panchito mucho."Tanager said. Panchito nodded, knowing that he needed to see the other side of the family that he rarely ever sees. "Oh that reminds me, when is Jodi's birthday?" Tanager filed some papers. "Two weeks ago, she's eleven." Panchito sighed, can't believing that he was missing his godchildren grew up without him, he sighed. "¿Tiempo vuela eh Tanager?"

"Too fast." Tanager said looking down at the godfather he appointed to his kids. Panchito nodded, feeling terrible that he hadn't seen the kids in several years, "Hey, why don't they come down for Fourth?" Tanager looked confused, "To Disneyworld? I don't think so, remember what happened last time?" He said, recalling Jodi and Louie almost getting into a firework accident because of Panchito's quick trip to the bathroom. "Actually I got fired." Panchito said. "What? No, that's terrible!" Tanager said with concern. "Yeah, it's pretty embarrassing actually." Panchito said, shuffling his feet as he always did when he was nervous or embarrassed. "¿Realmente qué pasó Panchito? Venga, diga a viejo Tanager eh." The bird who carried his species name said raising his eyebrows, urging the rooster to give details. "Not now Tanager," Panchito said, "I need you to get me into the museum." Tanager nodded, looking at the security guard, "The old bitch won't let you in eh?" He said. Panchito nodded, "Mis amigos me están esperando y no lo hago bien con detectores de metales." Tanager laughed. "No te preocupes mi amigo, sus armas están a salvo conmigo! Puedes confiar en mí, si necesitas algo sólo pregunte!" Panchito pulled out his pistols, spun them around out of habit and put them on the counter. "Do me a favor Tanager." He asked. "Si?" Tanager said as he pulled out a large Mexican cigar, sniffing it before lighting it. "Don't scratch the paint." He said, sighing as he walked through the security.

Jose and Donald were sleeping on the bench just as Panchito passed through security. The rooster smiled and sat down next to his friends and watched them sleep. "How sweet," he said, noticing that Jose and Donald were leaning up against each other. "It's almost peaceful." Panchito yawned. He looked around at the small exhibits that were inside the foyer, a collection of knifes, pottery, and clothing from the Central Americas dating back from the Aztec, a Montezuma statue, and a large scale diorama depicting the arrival of Cortez. Panchito nodded in approval realizing that he and his friends were in the Latin American wing as he yawned again and closed his eyes. "Well, maybe just for a few minutes." He said and rested his head up against the arm of the bench.

Terry drove home, mad and angry at George. All day today he worked alone, James, the other cashier was "out sick" like he always was and George let him get away with it. Probably because James was his brother, in fact that's exactly the reason. To be honest George played favorites, and George loved James and hated Terry. Many times Terry thought to himself what made James so likable. Everyone liked him. Everyone. Women, men, kids, teenagers, college kids, the elderly, hell, even the dead liked him. Terry just couldn't put his finger on why the entire world loved James, James was a complete and utter douche. Terry had half the nerve to call Panchito and tell to beat James up just to have that satisfaction of James being taken down from his pedestal. "Maybe if I start being a douchebag the world will accept me." Terry thought, "No," he said aloud, "I don't want to stoop to his level."

As Terry drove down the road, he passed James's house. James was throwing a small party, only three people. They were all sitting outside drinking and listening to music when James saw Terry pass by. "Hey look, it's Terry!" He said smiling, pulling off the classic douche look. James walked over wearing a gold and white golf shirt, tan shorts, red Chuck Taylor's, and golfing gloves. He didn't golf. He hates golf. James just likes the look. Classic Class A Douche. Terry slowed the car to a halt. "What's up James?" Terry asked, rolling down his window not really caring. "Nothing much," James asked with a smirk that said, 'I am better and more successful than you and you know it and I'm going to rub it in your face because that's how much of a douche I am'. "Just drinking with some friends, want one?" He asked. "No thanks James, I'll stick to water," Terry said, remembering his vow not to drink past eight, things got really crazy for him after eight o'clock at night when it came to alcohol. It started it college. That's all you need to know. "Well, you take it easy." James said, smiling and walking back towards his friends, as well as his garage which had a large sticker that took up the entire garage door that literally said "I AM A DOUCHE AND PROUD OF IT". Terry drove away, feeling even more aggregated and upset than before. James had everything. Terry had nothing. James was popular. Terry wasn't. James was a douche. Terry was a nerd. As these thoughts raced through Terry's mind, he decided that he couldn't take it anymore and pulled off to the side of the road. "I can't believe I'm doing this." He said as he pulled out his cell phone and called the last person on Earth he would ever call.

Panchito's ringtone _"We Speak No Americano"_ woke the rooster up. "Hola?" He said, looking around and realizing that he was still at the museum. "Panchito?" It was Terry. "Oh Terry, what's up?" The rooster said. "I need you to do something for me, but don't tell anyone." Panchito smiled, "What is it?" He said, the mischievous gears turning in his head. "I need you to beat the crap out of James McCoy." Panchito nodded, pulling out a small notebook, "What he do?" He asked. "He's a douche and he-." Terry said. "Say no more," Panchito cut him off, "I'm on the way, where are you?" Terry gave him the address. 555 Corner Street. "Right," Panchito said, "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Good, bring the others two, the more the merrier." Terry said, not caring if the rooster brought an entire army or his family he just wanted James to suffer the agony that Terry had known his whole life. "You got it amigo, always got your back." Panchito said, "Adios." He hung up the phone.

Panchito shook Jose and Donald to wake them, "Despierten amigos," He said as he dragged Jose off the bench and onto the floor, "Terry necesita nuestra ayuda!" Jose shook off the sleepiness, "What's going on Panchito?" He said with a yawn. Donald nodded, "Yeah, what gives, we were trying to sleep here." Panchito slapped Donald in the face to try and wake him up. "Ow, geez that hurt!" Donald said, opening his eyes finally. "Lo siento Donald más graciosa disculpas but we need to go." Panchito said, helping his friend up. "Where are we going? We haven't even toured the museum yet." Jose said as Panchito headed for the door. "We can do that later, right now we need to be there for Terry." He said, passing the metal detector and making his way to Tanager's desk. "Why do we need to help Terry?" Donald asked. "Yeah, is he in trouble?" Jose said. "I don't know," Panchito looked back at his friends, "but I don't want to risk anything, all I know is that he's being confronted by some douche."

"A douche?" Jose asked.

"Who?" Donald said as he passed through security following Jose.

"Some guy named James." Panchito said. He looked at the desk and saw that a large cage was over the counter, like a store would have in a mall. "Tanager!" Panchito yelled, "Open up!" He banged on the cage. "Abrir por favor es muy importante!" He banged again. "What is it Panchito?" Tanager said walking over to the counter. "Mis pistolas, ¿dónde están?" He asked. "Keep your belt on Panchito I'll get them." Tanager said walking slowly to the box where he put Panchito's guns. Panchito didn't have time for patience and spoke in rapid Spanish, "¡Apresure al hombre los necesito ahora la vida de alguien puede estar en juego!" He said aggravated at his friend for taking so long. "Slow down Panchito," Tanager said, as he opened the cage, holding Panchito's weapons in his hands. "Oh for Pete's sake give them here!" Panchito said, reaching over the counter and snatching his weapons away from his friend. "Hey what gives?" Tanager said, "Why are you being so rude all of a sudden, it's not like you?" Panchito sighed as he checked his pistols for bullets and put them in their holsters. "No time to explain, but I have to go." He turned to his friends, "Vamos amigos que tenemos que darnos prisa!" Panchito said with urgency. "Do you have any idea what's going on?" Donald asked as he and Jose ran out the door with Panchito. "I don't know," Jose said with equal confusion, "but as you Americans say, his head isn't screwed on right." He said as they ran down the street.

Terry was waiting in the car where he parked it at the end of James's street. The small party grew into a massive block party. Loud hipster music was playing, and Terry was trying to get some sleep as he waited for Panchito to come. Screaming, drinking, and partying were taking place at James's, and James meanwhile, who knew that Terry was there in his car, walked over again. "Sure you don't want to join in the fun?" He asked with a stagger. He was drunk. "No," Terry said, "just go away so that way I can beat you up later for not showing up for work and leaving me with fifty customers today." James smiled, "The Dollar General has fifty customers every day." He laughed. "Fifty customers at once jackass, what's your excuse for not showing up, as if I care." Terry said looking at him. James smiled, "Preparing for this." He said motioning towards the party, "It's the party of the year, and you're missing out." James walked away, Terry sighed, "See unlike you, I actually work, while you sit on your ass all day and be a douchebag." James stopped in his tracks and turned around. "What did you just say?" He said threateningly. "You heard me." Terry said, rolling over in the front seat. "Get out." James said, ready to fight. Terry sighed, not wanting to get out, but slightly wanting to beat the crap out of James he did.

Walking over into the closest lawn, James put up his fists, he was obviously drunk. Terry didn't move, he'd figure that James would just fall over any minute now. "Just like in high school and college right Terry?" James said circling around as if he were a boxer. "Yeah, you used to beat me up then too, for what, money?" Terry said trying to remember. James laughed, "No, it was the girl, it was always the girl." Terry nodded, remembering that James was Tina's creepy stalker ex-boyfriend that always tried to win her back but failed. "Well she's gone so you can have her." Terry said. James smiled, "Really? Where to?" He asked. "Russia." Terry answered. "Russia?" James said, "That's bullshit." He said, punching Terry in the gut. Terry dropped to his knees in pain, "Is that all you got you-" James kicked Terry to ground, standing on top of him like a victorious champion. "Just like old times right Terry?" James said, as he pummeled the living shit out of him. Over and over, his fist making contact with Terry's face. At the end of it all, Terry's face was bloody, nose was bleeding, mouth hanging open, eyes swollen, basically, his face was broken. "Is that all you got James?" Terry said, spitting out blood. James laughed, and filled with rage, "I'm going to kill you." He said laughing his head off. "I'll keep a note of that." Terry said. James laughed, still drunk out of his mind, but he knew what he was saying and doing, and he didn't give a fuck. "I don't give a fuck about you Terry." He said. Terry nodded, "And that' what makes you a douche." James nodded, hands a bit shaky as he stood Terry up. Terry, who couldn't see and probably should've back out by now, seeing James as a waste of time, did the stupidest thing anyone would do in his situation, try to punch him. As soon as Terry made a move, James caught Terry's fist in the air. "You really thought you could fight me didn't you?" He said with a smile, "You did it in school and now you're back trying to be a big boy huh?". He punched Terry in the face with his free hand. Terry staggered back, thinking to himself, _"Where is the rooster when you need him?" _

Panchito, Jose, and Donald ran down the street towards the address as fast as their feet could take them. "Panchito," Jose asked, dodging pedestrians, "what's going on?" Panchito didn't answer, instead he put his index and middle finger in his mouth and whistled, signaling the presence of Serape. Serape, Panchito's trusty mode of transport, was essentially a long shawl, in bright green, yellow, and blue bands and designs with red being the dominant foreground color. Serape who hated being called a "magic carpet" which was exactly what he was, came out of Panchito's right sleeve. He waited several feet away for his owner to catch up with him. As Panchito jumped on, followed closely by Jose and Donald, Serape took to the air, having absolutely no idea where he was going. "Now that we're in the air," Panchito said, "Terry's in trouble, and as his amigos, we need to be there for him."

"Agreed." Jose said, "But what sort of trouble is he in?"

"Yeah, and where are we going?" Donald asked.

"555 Corner Street." Panchito said, he turned to Serape and snapped his fingers twice. Serape turned looked up towards him, "Entiendes?" Panchito asked. Serape nodded a bit, "Bueno, vamos rápido!" Panchito shouted and before he could finish, Serape speed down towards the streets and headed towards Corner Street five blocks away.

"Whoa!" Panchito said as Serape came down towards the sidewalk at the end of Corner. "Fácil, no corremos con el toro que ya sabes." He exclaimed as Serape stopped and let the passengers off. Panchito looked back at Donald and Jose who were dizzier than usual, "¿Están bien?" He asked with a small laugh.

"No." Jose and Donald replied with almost immediate hurling. Panchito laughed, "Alright Serape, Ya está listo para el día, un buen trabajo amigo." Serape saluted placing his upper right corner up against his center as he made his way back in Panchito's sleeve just as quickly as he had exited.

"So you think you're a big shot now huh fancy boy!" James yelled from down the street. A loud and hard punch was heard, followed by screaming and panic. "Sounds like trouble to me." Panchito said as he pulled out his pistols.

Running down the street, the rooster and his friends saw that Terry was bleeding on the sidewalk and people were running in fear of James who was kicking Terry senselessly. "You," James kicked Terry hard in the street, "piece" another kick, "of" another, "shit!" James laughed as he kicked Terry a fourth time. Terry was now basically unconscious and bleeding profusely in the street. Jose and Donald went over to Terry and helped him to his feet. "So what you guys are his friends or something?" James said. Jose started at him, disgustingly and glaring, "Yes we are, you puta!" He said spitting towards him. James laughed. "You got a real big mouth." He said walking towards the two birds. A gunshot was heard. It was Panchito, left gun raised in the air. The only warning shot. "I'd stop right there if I were you amigo." Panchito said, aiming his gun at James who turned around. "And you are you supposed to be?" The drunk man asked. "Who me senor?" Panchito asked, spinning his gun as he always did. "Nobody really." He said as he pulled the trigger. The bullet rang through the air and hit James right in the chest. James smiled, and fell down to the floor. Jose and Donald were flabbergasted that their friend would just commit cold blooded murder like that. "Panchito!" Donald said, "What is wrong with you!" Jose answered, finishing Donald's sentence as they put Terry in the backseat. Panchito looked at them, "Get him to the hospital quickly," he said. "I'll take care of this hijo de puta." The parrot and the duck quickly got in the car and with the duck in the driver's seat and the parrot tending to the wounded they drove off as fast as they could to the nearest hospital leaving Panchito and James alone in the street.

James laughed, drunkenness wearing off, "What are you going to do, shoot me?" He said. "Possibly." The rooster answered, walking towards him, "Just tell me, this eh, what did he do to deserve it?" He said with a smile that said he already knew James's answer. "Nothing." James said. "He didn't do anything." Panchito nodded. "Figured as much." He said walking behind him. "You know what I'm going to do," he said, hearing police sirens in the distance, "I'm going to blow your face off." Panchito placed his foot on James's back, forcing James to fall face down on the pavement. "Any last words?" The rooster asked. "Yeah," James said, looking over seeing someone run over, "my girlfriend wants to talk to you." Panchito looked confused, "Que?" was all the rooster managed to get out before a female linebacker tackled him to the ground.

She was wearing a short shirt, short shorts, and tennis shoes. She was drunk. She was angry, and she was hot. Panchito blushed as the woman began to beat him senseless, thinking to himself as he watched the woman's breasts bounce up and down in front of him, not caring that fists and sounds of rage were getting in the way of his view. "I can look at this all day." Panchito said between punches. "Wait in line." The woman asked, "I got an appointment in three minutes and six more after that." That's all the rooster needed to here, he smiled, "I can wait." The girlfriend finished beating him and stood up, "That's gonna be a while." Panchito stood up and straightened his shirt and smoothed out his hair, "I got time," he said watching her walk away, his eyes following the back and forth sway of her buttocks, "all the time in the world." He said as he noticed that his collar started to flap up and down like wings would as well as his feet which were moving in a similar way. When he reached the ground Panchito helped James up, "You are a very lucky man senor." The rooster said in approval. "Yeah, she's a keeper." James said smiling, hoping that the rooster was now on his good side. "Si," the rooster said, "but," he said with a sigh, pulling out his pistol with his spin, "I still have to shoot you." James stared at him, "Wait what-"

_Bang._

Panchito whistled Dixie as he spun his pistol again before he put it away as he slowly walked away towards James's house, leaving James's dead douche body in the street.


	7. Hospitals Must Really Hate You

**Chapter Two: Hospitals Must Really Hate You**

"Fora do caminho!" Jose shouted as he drove like a manic down the speedway, not realizing why everyone was coming towards him. "Fora do caminho!" The parrot repeated honking the horn and driving towards the hospital. Donald was too speechless to react he just watched as his foreign friend drove on the wrong side of the road, watching as the inevitable thing happened... car wrecks that made Final Destination 2 look like a fender bender. "What the hell are you doing!" Donald finally managed to scream. "Driving!" Jose said in response, "Why you Americans drive on the wrong side of the road for eh, you could get somebody killed!" The parrot said, trying to keep his eye on the road. Terry began to stir, and heard the commotion of screaming, crashing, and crying from outside, "Turn off the TV please." He said, not fully awake yet. "Terry," Donald said, "don't worry we're taking you to the hospital." He looked out the window, "And possibly fifty other people." Another crash, "Sixty." Another. Donald sighed, "Okay a lot of other people too." Terry looked up at him and smiled, "You're kinda pretty." He said with a laugh as he puckered up his lips. Donald slapped his face, "Wake up Terry!" He shouted. Terry just laughed hysterically and put his head back down where it was. "Hurry up Jose," the duck said looking back up at his friend, "we're losing him."

"Not on my watch." Jose said seeing a quick option. "Um, Jose," Donald said, checking his and Terry's seatbelt to make sure they were fastened, having a feeling on where this would be going. "What are you doing?" The duck asked, noticing that they were headed straight towards the concrete wall, which separated the freeway from the hospital parking lot. Jose, seeing no oncoming traffic, floored the gas pedal as he speed towards the wall, coming from the passing lane. "Manter o seu chapéu!" The parrot shouted and going at least over 100 mph, the car went through the wall. Donald and Jose were screaming like little girls, "Que tenho eu feito? Por favor, salve-nos, Senhor estou muito bonitas e jovens para morrer!" Jose shouted, pulling out his Saint Christopher medal and kissing it. Donald was screaming and looking at Terry to make sure that he was screaming too, nope, he was still sleeping, or at least he appeared to be.

The car sped down the hill, through trees, and bushes, still having enough momentum and speed to go through the parking lot, passing up old ladies, people crying, a mariachi band, half of Panchito's family, a funeral, a black guy in a white suit, and Oswald the Lucky Rabbit sure enough. As the car crashed into the wall, Oswald walked over, curious to see if anyone was hurt. "Is everyone okay?" He asked nervously and sheepishly. Jose and Donald were shell shocked, Terry, who was still loopy from a loss of blood stood up and walked out of the car. "That was awesome!"Terry shouted, pumping his fist in the air as if he were at a Journey reunion concert. Oswald looked at Terry with confusion, seeing the massive amount of blood on his face, the man was obviously senile. "Sir are you okay?" Oswald asked, knowing the answer, no. "Yeah," Terry said with a smile, giving Oswald a hug that made the rabbit feel a bit awkward. If a random stranger who was bleeding and appeared high on acid and started to hug you, telling you how awesome he felt, you'd feel awkward too. "I feel great." Terry released the rabbit and walked inside the hospital.

Jose and Donald stumbled out of the car, dizzy, and vomiting. "What the hell where you thinking Jose?" Donald asked, keeling over the remains of the car which was halfway in the wall. "I was thinking of Senor Terry." Jose said, as he regained control of his stomach. Oswald walked over to his friends, "So, that's the weirdo nut jobs name?" He asked. Jose looked at him, "Senor Oswald!" He said excitedly, giving the rabbit a not so awkward hug, the rabbit accepted it, taking this more willingly. "What are you doing here?" Jose asked, releasing his friend, "Just seeing an old friend is all." Oswald said, "Who?" Donald asked. The rabbit sighed, "Just an old friend." The parrot nodded, "It's okay, you don't want to talk about it, come on Donald, let's go and see if Terry's still alive." Donald laughed. The rabbit shuffled his feet, something he picked up from the rooster. "Mind if I join you?" Oswald asked, a bit shyly not wanting to but in. "But of course!" Jose said with the same ecstatic energy as before. "Great," Oswald said with a smile, "I have a few words to say to our mutual friend about personal space." Jose, Donald, and Oswald laughed as they walked in the hospital together.

"Hey," Oswald said as they made it past the check in desk, "where's Panchito, doesn't he run with you guys?" Jose nodded, about to pull out a cigar but remembering that he was in a hospital, put it back , "Usually he does, but I don't know where he is." He turned to Donald, "Have any ideas Donal', you're always thinking things through." Donald shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, I'm not his keeper." The duck said, "But still, I hope he's okay." The duck said as they entered Terry's room, the most unlucky number in the world and all of history, 666.

The rooster followed James's scary but hot linebacker girlfriend. As he entered the house, he noticed that everything was sane. Nothing out of the ordinary here. That is when he saw her bedroom. _"¡Santo Dios!"_ the rooster thought, trying his best not to speak, _"this is the most insane crazy thing I've ever seen."_ He walked into the room, seeing pictures of various porn stars, both male and female, adorning this woman's room. Panchito finally noticed that she was no longer wearing the shirt and shorts that she was wearing earlier. She now sat on the bed, downed an S&M outfit. Complete with whip, chains, and spiky boots. The whole nine yards. The only person in the room other than her was Panchito. They were alone.

"I'm assuming this isn't a salsa party." Panchito said nervously as he backed away slowly. "Sort of," the girlfriend, whose name was Sasha said, "in a figurative way, if that's what you mean." She said, licking her finger and making a provocative pose. "No." Panchito said, eyes getting big and relatively heavy, "It's not what I meant at all." He said, voice getting squeaky and high. This was fine though. The only thing that Panchito was afraid of doing was clucking. The reason was simple. Roosters and chickens cluck when they're afraid, scared, or intimidated. In Panchito's case, he saw himself as a certain image, a person who wasn't intimidated but not intimidating, a person who wasn't afraid of anything not because he was prideful or arrogant but because he saw no reason to fear anything because there is truly nothing really ever to fear, a person who's job wasn't to scare people or to make people scared. He tried to be a positive influence, especially when he worked at Disney. All of this was due to design, and by choice, the rooster was in good moral standing so to speak.

"Let's get physical." Sasha said, removing her whip from its holster and pulling it out. Panchito smiled nervously, and laughed very cartoony and stereotypical of himself. "Let's not be too hasty now," Panchito said trying to open the door, but was having trouble finding the doorknob. "can we talk about this like civilized adults?" He said with a large and pleading smile. Sasha shook her head as she got off the bed and walked slowly towards the rooster with whip in hand. Panchito had the urge to pull out his guns, but he figured that would only provoke her more so he resisted. As the woman moved closer, the rooster began to sweat, and his farm days as a child were slowly starting to surface. He took a long and deep sigh. "Fuck it." He said and clucked.

Clucking, essentially, is like screaming but with the stereotypical chicken and rooster sounds that you'd expect. Except with Panchito is was different. Clucking to him was more of an exaggerated hiccup. So when Sasha cracked the whip towards the rooster, he ducked, and screamed as any sane person would when a crazy former lion tamer was coming at you wanting to destroy your face and body, she became somewhat confused. "I thought you know what this was?" She exclaimed, feeling a bit sorry for making the rooster jump in fear. Panchito was breathing heavily, and standing on in front of the headboard of her bed, "Look it's been really fun, really, but I gotta fly so, adios senora." He said with a salute, as he jumped out of the open window, making a three point landing and running full speed, flipped over the bushes commando style. At the moment Panchito had one goal, get out of that neighborhood as quickly as possible and headed toward the hospital.

Terry was asleep in the hospital bed. He was getting stitches, and several x-rays to make sure nothing was broken during the car accident. He looked around and saw Jose watching a Brazilian soap opera on the small television situated precariously in the corner of the room. Donald came in the room quietly with a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a cup of coffee, Jose style as Terry requested. As the duck placed the food on the bedside table Terry woke up. He smelled the coffee. Terry smiled, "I think I might be addicted to this stuff." He looked at Jose, "How do you say thank you in Portuguese." Jose turned to him, "Obrigado." He said. Terry nodded, "Yeah, I'm going to butcher that." Jose laughed, with a nod, "You're welcome," he said, "I'm just glad to see you're feeling better." Terry nodded, "Me too, you know, you guys are the only sane ones in my life right now." He closed his eyes and took a sigh, "How in the world do you stand him?" Terry asked, talking about Panchito.

Donald and Jose looked at each other, hesitant to answer, they loved their amigo as much as any other group of friends would, but for them it was a bit different. You see Donald and Jose met Panchito under different circumstances. The movie was just "The Disney" version. Here's what really happened.

It was 1943, and Donald was just coming home from the war. He was in the Navy and did his job as a sailor, so after about two and a half years of service, he was given an honorable discharge, something that he took with no regrets because he desperately wanted to get out of that situation as soon as possible. War can do things to you. Jose meanwhile was in the Rio de Janerio Airport, saying goodbye to his massive family, all 1,358,256 of them. Birds are all related. Panchito meanwhile was just getting back in the States from Spain and the matador business. Donald pulled in New York Harbor, and Jose pulled into the airport that would be known as JFK at about the same time a week later. Donald took a taxi. Jose took a taxi. Donald's taxi driver's name was Paco, Jose's taxi driver's name was Paco. They were in the same taxi. Paco also happens to Panchito's nickname. Go figure.

"So," Panchito said looking his seat at the two birds, "where you fellas headed." Jose lit a cigar. Panchito reached over and knocked on Jose's head, "Hey buddy, no smoking." Jose shrugged his shoulders and put out the cigar and turned to Donald. "So, how was the war my friend?" He said, trying be as upbeat as possible about a topic that was about as depressing as The Great Depression. "Well," Donald said, "we won." Jose nodded. Donald slumped back in his chair, knowing full well that the war wasn't over yet. Panchito nodded, "So, you're a war hero eh?" He said looking in his rear view mirror at the duck. "Yeah," Donald said, "just take us to Times Square please." Panchito nodded, "You bet." He said with a tip of his hat and drove to their destination.

When they reached Times Squares, Jose and Donald got out and Jose was about to pay the rooster when he stopped him and put his hand up in protest. "No need amigo, I give free rides." Jose put the money back, "Thanks." He said. Panchito nodded and turned to Donald, he reached in his pocket and flipped a paso which Donald caught. "What's this for?" Donald asked. Panchito smiled, "Gracias por servir a señor." He looked out onto the street for an opening. He pulled in the street and drove away. The stoplight turned red, giving the rooster just enough time to put his head out the window and wave to Jose and Donald, "Bienvenidos a la Ciudad de Nueva York!" He shouted. Jose and Donald waved back and watched the rooster drive down the street.

The nurse came in with Terry's antibiotics. "Will he be okay?" Donald asked looking a bit worriedly. The nurse smiled, "Your friend is going to be just fine." Donald nodded with an unsatisfied sigh. Terry was asleep when the drugs were given and the nurse quietly left the room. When the nurse left, Jose and Donald heard a yelling, drunk old man, who was a frequent resident of the hospital by the name of Felix.

Felix was born at the end of World War II, and grew up during the 1960's. He was a Civil Rights Baby Boomer, who hated just about everybody that wasn't his mother. He was an old coot who always had vodka in his hand and a cigar in his mouth. At the moment he was yelling for the nurse to come back in. "Nurse! Nurse!" He shouted, pressing the red button over and over. The nurse who just left reentered the room and turned to him, "Mr. Felix what is it?" She asked. "I need to take a piss." He said. The nurse rolled her eyes, "Then go to the bathroom!" She said, turning around to leave again, "And be a bit more courteous next time there's someone trying to sleep." Felix waved her away and as he watched her walk away she smiled, "Nice ass." He said.

The old man swung his feet around to the edge of the bed, letting them hang there for a moment as he sat up. He rubbed his eyes, stood up and shuffled slowly to the bathroom, unaware that Donald and Jose were there. He turned, seeing that the television was on, and saw Donald and Jose watching the end of the soap opera. He just stared at them awkwardly for a moment, "Holy shit," he said confused. "Donald Duck and Jose." At the sound of this both birds turned around and saw a robed man looking at them as if he were seeing ghosts. Both birds awkwardly waved at the same time. Felix looked at each of them, and when his mind grasped the idea that Donald and Jose were there he dropped his shoulders and stared a bit longer. "You alright senor?" Jose asked. "Yeah, you're not looking so good." Donald said. Felix nodded and slowly made his way to the bathroom.

When he closed the door, Felix looked in the mirror, turned on the faucet, and splashed water on his face. "It's alright Felix," he said, "it's all in your head." He took a deep breath, turned off the faucet and exited the bathroom, completely forgetting that he had to go in the first place. To make sure that he wasn't seeing things he turned back towards Terry and saw the two birds still sitting there. Felix sighed and let his shoulders drop again, "Fuck I'm dead aren't I?" He asked. Jose who turned back around towards the TV turned around and said, "No senor, you're very much-" he opened his eyes and saw that Felix was on the floor. The parrot rushed over and checked the old man's pulse, "He's still breathing!" He exclaimed. "Uh," Felix said opening his eyes a little, "I had the strangest dream that a parrot and a duck were." He looked at Jose who was sitting on his torso, smiling, and tipped his hat, "Olá." Jose said. Felix screamed and slapped Jose in the face, who slapped him back. "Ow, what was that for?" Felix asked. "Well you slapped me." Jose answered. "I think I need a glass of water." Felix said looking over to the bathroom. Donald nodded and walked over to the bathroom, grabbing a paper cup, and handing it to the old man. "Um," Felix said after he drank the water, "any particular reason why you're on top of me?" He said, looking at Jose who was sitting on top of him comfortably. Jose looked down and noticed, "Oh, sorry senor," he said, "you just looked so comfortable." He said with a slight smile, "Uh, that came out wrong did it not?" Jose said. Felix nodded as Donald helped him up to his bed. "So," Felix said, "what's his story," he said mentioning Terry. Jose smiled, "It's a long story." Felix got into his bed, "I got time." He said. Jose nodded as he sat down in a nearby chair, and waited for Donald to sit down before he began to tell the story...

Panchito walked calmly into the hospital wing holding a box of chocolates in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in another. Once he figured out Terry's room number he saw a man, about Terry's age, sitting outside the room, crying a bit, and was laughing. In his hands, he held a stuffed animal with Panchito's likeness. So naturally, Panchito nervously walked over to him. "You okay?" He asked. "No I'm not." The man said strangling the rooster doll, which made Panchito cringe just a bit. "Why is that?" Panchito asked with a bit of a squeak in his voice. The man looked at him, "Because, my best friend is in that room, and his life has been fucked up by some has been Mexican chicken." The man stood up, and Panchito backed up just a bit, seeing that his sheer height, six two, African American male, former football player, NFL, 1989-95, New York Patriots, you know before they became a douchebag team. His name, John, John Silverman. He looked down at Panchito and smiled, "You wouldn't happen to be that chicken now would you?" Panchito cleared his throat, "Rooster actually," he said correcting John. "Chicken, rooster, same damn thing," John said picking Panchito up by the neck. "Oh," John looked down, "are those chocolates and flowers?" He asked seeing the gifts in Panchito's hand. Panchito nodded, "Sorry present." he said, finding it difficult to breathe as John began to squeeze his neck. John nodded as he opened the door, "Let's go say hello to our mutual friend." He said with a smile, Panchito smiled and nodded as they entered the room, with John still holding the rooster by the neck.

Just as Jose and Donald were getting to the part about James being a douche, John busted the door down. He threw Panchito down hard, his football days hadn't left him. Well, he is a cop now, thanks to a little movie called _Pulp Fiction_. Panchito coughed and wheezed as he looked at John with disdain, "What the hell man!" He screamed. "Hey!" It was Felix, "fuck off, I'm trying to listen to a story here!" Panchito stood up and looked at the old man, "Lo siento señor." He said standing up and straightening up his shirt. He turned to John, "Now look here buddy, I don't really like-"

"What the fuck did you just say?" Felix said, looking at the rooster confused as ever.

Panchito turned to him and said, "It's Spanish."

"Speak English for Christ's sake, it's fucking annoying when Spanish people speak Spanish, I can't understand a word they say."

"Well," Panchito said, "why don't I say it in a different way." He pulled out his guns, spun them around habitually and backed up to the wall. He ran towards the bed, jumped in the air, performed a small front flip, and landed on Felix's torso, pointing the guns at his head. Felix laughed, "Fuck you." He said. Panchito smiled, "I'm not going to kill you, since you're over the age of seventy-five."

"I'm seventy-four." Felix said cutting the rooster off.

"Don't tempt me," Panchito said, "I'm just going to let you off on a warning okay, but just so you know, I don't appreciate the word 'fuck' in conversation. It's one of my pet peeves, don't say it. I know that it's probably engraved in your brain after years of putting up with a horrible love life, a horrible job, and a horrible government scam called Social Security that put you in this place, and possibly a prison record that is about as long your arm in there somewhere too. But don't fucking say the f word. I don't like it." With that done, the rooster got off the old man and looked at Jose, "Make sure to tell him about this part later, he'll probably forget it." Jose nodded, "Should I tell about the S&M woman?" Panchito shook his head, and shivered at the thought, "Leave that part out."

Terry was awake on the other side of the room. As Panchito walked over he saw John present him with the chocolates and flowers that Panchito was going to give him. "Here," John said, "I brought you these." Panchito smiled slyly, _"So that's how you're going to play this game eh?"_ The rooster walked over to the other empty chair and sat down. "So, how are you doing buddy?" Panchito asked Terry. Terry turned over and glared at him, "I need to get a restraining order from you." Panchito sighed, "Por que?" He asked. Terry shook his head, "That's it, right there!" He said, sitting up in the bed. "That's what?" Panchito asked, trying to figure out what was the matter with him. In his mind he was there for Terry every step of the way, and in truth was a good friend to him, despite the fact that he was solely responsible for Terry's girlfriend being deported, Terry's house being destroyed almost twice, and Terry getting senselessly beaten up by a douche and sent to the ER for God knows what. Panchito slumped back in his chair, "I understand Terry, sorry, I just tried to help." He said, shuffling his feet. "Just leave Panchito, you're not worth my time, or anybody else's." Terry said, turning back to John and completely ignoring the rooster.

Panchito slowly got up and left one of his guns on the bedside table. Terry turned to him, "For luck." The rooster said, "You're going to need it, adios amigo." He said with an informal salute. He turned and just as he was about to leave, Terry sighed, "Hey Pistoles," he said, Panchito walked back to the bedside, "thanks for saving my ass back there." Panchito smiled, "Always got your back senor." He said, picking up the pistol and putting it back in his holster. Looking at the TV, Panchito noticed that _Pulp Fiction_ was on. John's favorite movie. "Oh, I love this part," John said, watching the TV, "Isn't this where the mistakes were?" Panchito asked, mentioning the man who shot too early in the famous 'Do They Speak English in What?' scene. John turned to him and glared, with eyes of fire and fists of rage, "There are no mistakes! This movie is perfect!" Panchito laughed, "Yeah, tell that to Forrest Gump."

"Do you want to die tonight chicken?" John said, standing up and cracking his knuckles.

"Leave him alone John," Terry said with a yawn, "he's just plum loco."

"Gracias senor," Panchito said with a tip of his sombrero, "but now is not the time for jokes," he said pulling out his pistols. John pulled out his gun as well, he was a cop after all. "Okay," Panchito said, seeing John's police badge, "you win." He said spinning his pistols back in their holsters again. John nodded, "That's what I thought," he said. "Well," Panchito said sitting back down in his chair, "Forrest Gump was a better movie, hell, The Fucking Lion King was a better movie, I should know, I wrote it." Terry looked at him, "You wrote The Lion King?" Panchito smiled and nodded, "I basically plagiarized Hamlet." Terry laughed, "Wasn't that whole movie inspired by Hamlet?" Panchito sighed, "It _was _Hamlet dummy!" He said hitting Terry on the head playfully with a laugh and closed his eyes, and for a moment lost his thought process for a second...que vision music...

The nurse came back in, "Excuse me, but visiting hours are over, you have to leave." She said. "Well," John said, looking at Terry, "I'll be here tomorrow to pick you up okay?" Terry nodded. "I'll make sure to clean up house alright?" Panchito said, as he left. Terry laughed, "I'll believe that when I see it." Panchito laughed, "You don't trust me do you?" Terry shook his head. "No." He said with a laugh as he watched the rooster, who he really considered his friend, granted, the friend that he wanted to strangle, but a friend nonetheless walk out of the room.

As they left, Oswald sat on the bench outside, he didn't go in the room the whole time, he just went and said goodbye to his friend for the last time. Ever. Which explains why he was crying. Panchito, Donald, and Jose walked out at the same time, followed by John. "Senor Oswal', what's the matter eh?"Panchito said, sitting down next to him. "My friend just passed away Panchito." Oswald said, "He was all I had left." Panchito nodded, "¿Quién era?" The rooster asked. Oswald sighed, "Goofy." Donald heard this and immediately started crying. "What room?" The duck asked. "612" Oswald said.

Without question, Donald ran towards the room, with Jose and Panchito quickly following him. As Donald entered the room, he saw Tina in the room, looking like something out of Silent Hill. In her hand was a bloody knife. Donald looked over at the bed and saw Goofy's dead body covered by a white sheet. In the corner of the room, a small turntable was there, it was playing "I Don't Want To Set the World on Fire" by the Ink Spots. Tina charged and stabbed Donald in the torso. The duck fell, with no expression. Tina laughed. Panchito pulled out his pistol and shot her, "You bitch!" He yelled as he ran to tackle her, "I hope that you burn in-" Tina laughed and Panchito looked at his torso, a knife that was thrown was in his chest. "Oh shit," Panchito said as he fell to his knees, as he watched Tina go towards Jose and heard him screaming for mercy. Panchito fell to the floor...

Waking up in the room from his Final Destination moment, Panchito looked around and saw Terry in the bed and John across from him. He checked his body for any stab wounds and found none. The nurse came back in, "Excuse me, but visiting hours are over, you have to leave." She said. "Well," John said, looking at Terry, "I'll be here tomorrow to pick you up okay?" Terry nodded. Panchito got up and quickly ran out of the room, he looked left and saw Oswald sitting there on the bench crying. Panchito sighed and looked at me, "Shit, this is kinda like Final Destination isn't it?"

Yes, it is.

"I hate you." Panchito said.

I know. Now, get in there!

Without further questioning, Panchito ran down the hallway towards room 612. Pistol drawn, ready to fire, he busted the door down.

Entering, the room was dark and quiet, Panchito closed the door behind him and tired on the lights. "Ah, geez, a little warning next time please!" Goofy said, as he stood up he saw Panchito and smiled, "Oh hey buddy what's up?" He said with a smile. "What are you doing in the hospital?" Panchito asked, walking over to the side of the bed. Goofy knocked on his head, "Said I needed to recover a bit, I should be out in a day or so." Panchito smiled and nodded, "Good to see you're well mi amigo." He hugged him. "Gosh," Goofy said, "what's up?" He said, noticing that Panchito was crying a bit, "Thank God you're safe." Panchito said between the tears, "I had a vision of you, you were dead." Panchito let go. "Dead?" Goofy said, confused, "But how?" Panchito shrugged his shoulders, "No se, but it doesn't matter now, everything is going to be okay."

"Well, you take care now Panchito, I like you." Goofy said, worried for his friend. Panchito nodded, "I like you too Goofy," he said, "adios." Goofy laid back down in his chair as Panchito turned off the light and exited the room. "He's a nice guy." He said as he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

Panchito walked back down the hallway feeling a bit better, knowing that Goofy wasn't dead. As he turned back towards Terry's room he saw the nurse entering the room again, Panchito didn't think anything of it, until he saw Oswald, still crying. He walked over to his friend and sat down next to him, "What's the matter now?" Panchito said. "It's nothing, I just have this strange feeling that something bad is going to happen to Goofy." Panchito sighed, "He's fine, I just checked on him, everything is a-" Screaming. "okay." Panchito finished his sentence and was up again running towards Goofy's room, noticing that Donald and Jose were close behind.

"NOOO!" Goofy yelled trying his best to kick Tina away from him. Tina climbed through the window, and was wearing a prison uniform. She escaped Black Dolphin Prison one night during a snow storm, ever since then she's been bent on ruining Terry's life. She had no idea what the hell she was doing in Goofy's room, she just wanted to kill somebody, and Goofy was target number 1. "I'm going to kill you!" Tina said, hair mangled, crazy eyes, crazy laugh, she was a total mental case. "W-w-what do you want with me?" Goofy said, eyes scared and helpless. "What do I want with you?" Tina said loud, proud, and bitchy like, "I want the world to know that the Master Race has returned!" She said lifting the knife in the air. Goofy rolled her eyes, "Oh, so you're one of _those_ people?" Tina nodded, "Yeah, I'm one of those people." She said as she moved to stab Goofy, when on cue, Panchito busted the door down, and without thinking about it, shot the knife out of Tina's hand.

Tina looked over at the rooster with the devil's eyes, and looked like she just came out of _The Haunting of Connecticut_. "You little bastard, I just can't get rid of you can't I?" Tina said. "Ditto." Panchito said, spinning his guns around. "Now, are you going to come quietly, or do you have to die tonight?" Panchito said, glaringly. "You won't kill me." Tina said, "I'm an important character!" Panchito laughed, "So am I but I'm just about the most unlucky person in this room right now." He looked over at Goofy, "Even Goofy is more stable than me."

"It's true." Goofy said, "He can't fly more than three feet off the ground."

Panchito looked at him, "Gee, thanks for pointing out my many faults."

"You also talk way too much, and sleep with your guns, and have anger management issues." Goofy said.

"I do not!" Panchito yelled, "I passed anger management class! Donal' was a witness." Donald came into the room. "I was a witness to what?" He asked. "Donal' didn't I pass Anger Management Class?" Panchito said. "Yeah you did." Donald answered. "After the fortieth time." Panchito looked at him, "I did not take that class 40 times." Jose nodded, "Yes you did."

"Oh really, Mr. Smooth Guy," Panchito said, looking at Jose, "Didn't you go to Cigar Anonymous meetings?" Panchito asked. Jose nodded, not proud of it, he still smoked.

For a while, Goofy, Panchito, Donald, and Jose were ranting and bashing out on each other about how each of their many faults. Jose's secret obsession with Ghost Peppers, Donald's relationship with Daisy and how it's going completely nowhere, and Goofy with his faults listing as long as the Great Wall of China. Eventually the conversation turned into how much they all hate their jobs and why they should all go into business together and open up a small law firm. The dreams they all have. The nightmares. They really discovered in a span of eleven minutes how alike they all were, and how much they really needed each other and how much they hated each other. Love-hate relationship, that sort of thing. In any case, all of them completely forgot that Tina was even there. Eventually Tina gave up, shrugged her shoulders, flipped them all off, left the room, and went back to the house. As she passed Terry's room she saw John, waved, who waved back, and continued on her way.


	8. Where's the Translator?

**Chapter Three: Where's the Translator?**

**This chapter is a short one but it's still pretty funny I think (if it's not, please let me know, I want to make this as good, funny, etc. as possible. Feedback is important to me and I will consider all suggestions, anything to help me write this is greatly appreciated. Thank you for all those who support this it means a lot! Again, I don't own any of the Disney characters. Enjoy :) **

John pulled into Terry's driveway. "Thanks for the lift." Terry said muffled underneath the bandages and trying his best not to move in his neck brace. Turns out Terry's situation was worse than he thought, he broke his neck, face, both arms, left leg, and basically everything else. The whole way home Panchito was silent. "Hey," Jose said, "we're here." Panchito nodded, feeling a bit sorry for himself, feeling like it was his fault. "This is all my fault," the rooster said. "No shit," John replied, "do you ever do _anything_ right?" Panchito glared at him, "Fuck you!" and gave him the middle finger. Angry and not wanting to talk anymore the rooster got out, hoping over Jose. "Panchito," said the parrot, "what's wrong?" Panchito sighed and looked at his friend, "Get out of the car Jose, you're just like my mother, you take way too long and talk way too much." Donald meanwhile was talking on his cell phone to Daisy, something that he always did at exactly three-fifteen, the time it was now. "Yes dear," he said over and over between silent intervals. "Yes dear, right away dear...No I didn't pay the electric bill...or the water bill...or the cable...or do the dishes...or pick up the kids...why?...because I was in the hospital...no I'm not dead...nobody died Daisy!...Yes I'm sure, I'm alive...well if I were dead we wouldn't be having this conversation...you what?...you want me to pick you up...where?...the mall?...what'd you buy?...well what'd you spend?...$50,000!...We can't afford that...I do not buy things for myself all the time, that's what you do, you're selfish, egotistical and rude just like one of my roommates...no, I'm not back in college...I know dear...yes dear..." He was a broken record, a man who had no control, no respect, and was always getting pushed down. Panchito saw that a lump was growing in his throat, he motioned for the phone. Donald passed it to Jose who passed it to the rooster who put his ear up to the speaker and said "Adios bitch" and hung up. "Do you have to be so vulgar all the time?" Donald asked stepping out of the car and walking over to Panchito. "No," Panchito answered, "I just like doing it to people who step on you. Think of me as like your bouncer amigo." He smiled. Donald knew that if there was one person that would be there for him, it was Panchito, he just didn't need him for everything, he could take care of himself. Besides, with Daisy, it's a no brainer. Just buy her stuff. Material objects are the one thing she craves and Donald knows it. She doesn't really care about him, just the money and the wealth and the stuff. That's it. Money. Wealth. Stuff. Not Donald. Poor guy. The thought that he really wasn't loved by Daisy made the duck cry.

"Why doesn't she love me!" Donald sobbed. Panchito patted him on the back, "There, there Donal', No te preocupes, ella llegará." Donald stopped crying, and looked at his friend, "What the hell are you saying! I can never understand you!" Jose stepped out of the car. "He said, Não se preocupe que ela vai chegar em torno." Donald looked at Jose and shook him violently, picking him up, "WHAT DOES THAT MEAN!" Terry muffled something. "What?" Donald asked, trying to make sense of things, he walked over to the rolled down window. Terry repeated himself. Still muffled. "What did he say?" Donald asked. "I think he said, 'It's Portuguese for Ne vous inquiétez pas elle va venir autour.'" Donald's eyes twitched, he just wanted to know what the hell these people were telling him. So he snapped. He pulled out a knife which he had in his pocket and put the blade up against Terry's neck. "Alright, you guys better tell me what the fuck is going on okay!" Donald said eyes crazy and screaming his head off. "Whoa, hey easy!" John said, "Put the knife away." He added. "Si Donal'," Panchito said, pulling his guns out, "put the knife away." Donald shook his head, "Not until you fuckers translate!" Jose nodded, "Alright, alright, basically," he sighed, "Panchito said that you're screwed." Panchito looked at the parrot, "What? I did not say that? I just said that for him not to worry."

"Oh," Jose said, "I thought you were being sarcastic."

"Well you have no sense of sarcasm," Panchito said, "besides, what did Terry say?" He asked. Terry repeated himself, still muffled voice from the bandages. John translated, "It's French." Terry said something else. John nodded, "He said that he learned French in high school. French has some root words in Spanish, so he ignored Jose and translated Panchito's words in French. He still has no idea what he said." Donald sighed. "Great," he said turning to Panchito, "what'd you say?" He asked, hoping that he'd get a good honest answer from the person he knew didn't do any of those things. "I'm telling it to you straight," Panchito said, "let me say it slower so you'll understand amigo, no te preocupes, ella llegará." He slowed his speech and even pantomimed but Donald, still a knife to Terry's neck, was still a bit confused. "Can we all just speak English please!" Donald said pleading for sanity. Panchito and Jose nodded, put up the okay sign, put one foot forward, winked, all in one motion and said simultaneously, "Si."

John slowly helped Terry out of the car and walked him to the house. John pulled out the keys, unlocked the door, and ushered Terry in. The three birds followed in after. John led Terry to the couch and sat him down. "Sit down Terry, here," he said grabbing for the remote control, "I'll turn on the TV." Terry nodded his head and John went into the kitchen. Panchito and his friends quickly entered and sat down in awkward silence. "Why are you guys so quite all of a sudden?" John asked who was making some snacks for the football game. Colts vs. Pats. John was a Colts fan. As he should be. The Pats suck. Tom Brady is a douche, and everybody knows it. It's a fact. It's a state law. It's a stereotype. And it's fucking true. Tom Brady is a douche. Bottom line.

John came in with a tray of cheese, crackers, chips, cookies, and drinks. The game was coming on as he sat down next to Terry. Terry muffled something. "What?" John asked looking at him. Terry repeated himself. "Oh sure." John said as he carefully removed his bandages slowly. He unwrapped it as if he were Charlie Bucket opening his first Wonka Bar, slow, painfully slow. It was so slow that Panchito groaned got up and took the bandage from John. "Oh let me do it you overstuffed chalupa." The rooster said as he quickly unraveled the bandage, over and over and over and over, faster and faster and faster and faster. It made John's head spin just watching it. It didn't to Panchito though, he was singing his head off, loud, proud, and off key, but did he give a fuck? Hell no. "Oh the sun will come out tomorrow! So you gotta hang out 'til tomorrow!"

Jose and Donald were covering their ears while John was too busy getting dizzy. "Oh my Lord!" Jose said putting his fingers in his ears trying to block out the noise, "I think a dolphin just died!" Donald screamed. "No shit." John said trying not to pass out. Finally the bandage was off and Panchito hanking it like one would a rope. Terry who was also dizzy, looked at Panchito and shook his head, "You son of a bitch." Panchito smiled slyly, "Gracias." He said and sat back down.

As the game went on Tina, who was in bed, got up, awoken from the drunken screaming and loudness of the guys. "Will you guys fucking shut up!" She yelled, the demon inside her roaring. "Touchdown!" "Yes!" "Bravo!" "Olé!" "Muito bem!" over and over, louder and louder. The same loudness at the football game was being projected by five men. Tina walked slowly into the living room, looking like something from The Grudge. She grunted and spat like a Neanderthal. As she sat down next to Panchito, she noticed that everyone was happy, and she wanted to be happy, but be the only person in the room who was happy. Her happiness right now was to get sleep. The football game was preventing that. Terry who noticed that Tina walked in smiled and said, "Tina, you're awake, how are you, you okay?" Tina glared at him and pointed, "You!" She said in a demonic voice, "Sent me to Russia! Do you know what they speak in Russia? Russian! I had no idea what they were saying! I drove me fucking crazy!" Tina stood up and walked over to Terry, blocking his view. "Um-Tina, you're kinda of-"

"What?" Tina said, looking like Norman Bates a bit, "Blocking your view?"

"Uh, yeah, you're being awfully rude." Terry said.

"Yeah," Panchito retorted, "stop being a gran dolor and watch the game with us."

Tina's head slowly turned, Exorcist moment. "You," she said with burning eyes, still with a demonic voice, "ruined my life." She grabbed the rooster by the neck, lifted him in the air. "Hey," Panchito said, "what gives!" He tried to break free of her grasp but she was too strong and began to crush Panchito's larynx. "Um, senora," the rooster said, face turning blue, "I-can't...breathe here!" He said coughing. Jose looked up and quickly stabbed Tina in the stomach with the end of his umbrella, it didn't help though because she still held on the rooster's skinny little neck like a child would a mother's hand when afraid of a shot. So hard the knuckles were white, like seriously any whiter and you wouldn't have been able to distinguish Tina's hand from the natural light coming in from the room. "Can't...breathe...going...out..." Panchito said desperately. Tina laughed, "I'm going to send you straight to the fire you miserable piece of shit!"

"Tina that's enough, let him go!" Terry barked. Donald stood up behind her and kicked her in the backside. John also stood, cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders, "Let's see if that wrestling camp paid off." He said and punched Tina dead in the face.


	9. This Is For George

**Chapter Four: This Is For George **

The next day was Monday. Terry, who was still on the couch watched as Panchito walked out, wearing a white button up shirt, black pants, a black tie, and a red rose in hand. Terry was slightly confused, because he hadn't seen the rooster in any other clothes except for his red charro pants and red shirt, so seeing him like this was new, which made him suspicious. "Where are you going?" Terry asked, sitting up from the couch. "Your work," Panchito said, "someone's got to fill in for you while you're laid up." Terry laughed, the last thing he wanted was to get fired, and felt that Panchito was going to do something stupid. Like blow up the Dollar General, which would cause Terry to do two things, dance and scream for joy and cry in misery because of his loss of income. After a brief moment of thought Terry smiled, thinking about the hell that one rooster could produce in one day. "Alright Pistoles," he said, with a large grin, "you can fill in for me, just don't mess anything up." Panchito nodded and smiled, "You can count on me mi amigo!" He said with a victorious laugh, the kind of laugh that one gives when he knows he'll do well, a satisfactory laugh.

"No." George said looking at the overdressed rooster who stood in his doorway. "Absolutely no way, Terry comes into work personally or he's fired." He said. Panchito nodded and walked towards the overweight man's desk. "Listen jefe, I don't want to be a downer but you need to give Senor Dicks another chance here." He said with sympathetic eyes, "Just let me work one day." George sighed and shook his head, "I can't afford you, not after what happened to James, I got a funeral to arrange," he said sighing, "some idiot killed him." Panchito suddenly produced a lump in his throat, and a clucking urge was coming on, he hated lying, and he hated when he knew that he was responsible. "Y-y-you don't say?" Panchito asked, smiling and beginning to sweat. George nodded, "Yeah," he said, "you wouldn't know anything about that would ya?" Panchito shook his head, he loosened his collar, "No Senor, don't know nothing about that." George looked at him and saw that the rooster was exasperated, "You okay?" He asked, noticing that the rooster began to fidget, close to breaking, with a ton of saliva in his mouth, it was hard for him to breathe. "Breathe man!" George cried. Panchito nodded and opened his mouth, and very cartoon like took a deep, long, over exaggerated breath. "Just sit down alright," George said. Panchito nodded. "Muchos gracias Senor." George shook his head, "Get out now." He said before Panchito could take his offer. "But why?" The rooster asked. "I hate Mexicans." Panchito stopped himself from speaking, he just very quickly shuffled around in confusion, like a squirrel who has no idea if he wants to run up the tree or across the field. He couldn't make up his mind. "What the hell are you doing?" George asked. Panchito shrugged his shoulders, "Just something to calm me down Senor." He said and starting doing the Mexican Hat Dance without the music, something that always made him feel better. Comforting memories of home. George was confused, but slightly impressed. "I've always wanted to do that." He said. "Really?" Panchito asked, "It's quite the workout, you should try it." He said finishing, calmed down a bit. This was the first time Panchito did the dance in formal wear, and the only time because he was burning like a Mexican sausage on a fryer. "So," Panchito said, gasping for air, "do I get the job?" George looked at the resume again, it was Disney this and Disney that, completely omitting the fact that he was fired by his own doing. "Exactly _why_ do you want to work here?" George asked. "To fill in for Senor Terry." Panchito said, sitting down in the chair. "I see, and you know Terry well?" George said, remembering that he loathed the man. "Oh si senor, me and Terry go way back, it's been an interesting few weeks." Panchito said. George nodded. "I bet he's given you hell huh." Panchito couldn't answer that and just gave a frozen expression of 'Um, what did you say?' His mouth open and a hand up in the air, frozen for a total of sixty-eight seconds. "Didn't I tell you to get out of here?" George said. "Si Senor," Panchito said, "you told that you're a racist bastard." George nodded, "Thank you for the compliment, now get the fuck out." Panchito nodded, flipped him off, shot him in the arm with a pistol that he had in his pocket, in case things went south or something serious happened, and left. Not giving a crap. On the way out, George was screaming in pain and whining, "You shot me! Why did you do that!" Panchito rolled his eyes, _"Because you Senor are a complete assshole." _he thought and had a brilliant idea when he passed by George's 2006 white Lexus that belonged to his mother, it had the license plate, "MOM 4EVR" Panchito smiled, and pulled out a switch blade, something that he carried for backup reasons. He laughed to himself and approached the car, when he was finished, he put away his knife and whistled.

Back at the house, Terry was watching TV, Donald was leaving for work, and Jose was packing up. Terry sat up, "You guys leaving?" He asked. Jose nodded, "Si Senor, we only packed enough for two weeks, and our flights back home are this afternoon." Terry nodded, "Darn, you guys were sane, I don't think I'll be able to survive another-" The news announcer came on, interrupting Terry's program...

"Attention all passenger of the Bowing 77 Flight 180 has had a malfunction. Apparently one of the teenagers en route to Paris claims he had a vision and drove the plane into the Pacific Ocean. All flights, particularly this one have been cancelled."

"Great," Donald said, "now what are we supposed to do?"

"Stay there you dumbass!" The news anchor said, looking at Donald. "The writer will kill you if get on another flight, anyway," he turned back to the camera, "back to your regular programming." The regular programming was the end of Casablanca.

"Oh I love this movie!" Jose exclaimed as he sat down to watch it.

"I hate it." Donald said. Jose turned back towards his friend, "You have no soul."

"Whatever." Donald replied walking into the living room sitting down in a chair.

Just as the duck sat down Panchito walked in, breathing heavily and feeling triumphant. "Senor Terry, guess what?" He said. Terry groaned, "Did you burn the place down?" Panchito shook his head, "No, guess again." Terry thought, "Did you kill anybody?" Panchito shook his hand like one would if you were trying to get back it's circulation, "Tal vez, pero no." The rooster said. Terry sat up, making room for the rooster to sit down next to him. "Then what did you do?" Terry asked. "I shot your boss and fucked up his coche!" Terry's eyes grew big, "You what!" He said, "I don't want to know what the hell that means but why?" He grabbed the roosters shoulder and shook him a bit, "WHY!" He screamed. Panchito laughed, "You're awfully funny Senor! I like that. You're a bit loco, but you're alright." Terry nodded and laughed, but it was the laugh that someone gives when their going crazy and insane. He was, and didn't care, he enjoyed it, in a strange, weird way. Terry began removing his casts and throwing bandages around like a mad man, when he was done, he looked at Panchito with crazy wild eyes and put all that stuff on top of him, "Let's see how you like it you little fucker!" He said. "Hey, what the hell Terry!" Panchito said, protesting, "Let me go!" He shouted. Donald and Jose really weren't paying attention all that much, they figured that he deserved it and they would get him out after Terry was finished. In truth, they forgot, and Panchito was placed in a closet, wrapped up in casts and bandages, like an Egyptian mummy that wasn't finished. "Get me out of here! Jose, Donal'? Are you guys there?" Silence. The TV. Laughing at Daniel Tosh. Comedy Central was on. "You sons of bitches! I'll kill you both you bastards if you don't get me out of here!" Panchito screamed.

Tina walked into the room, as she always did, around noon, and when all the noise was happening. "Is there a kid in the closet?" She asked. "What? No it's me!" Panchito shouted. "I don't know who me is." Tina said, "Let me out por favor, so I can kill them!" Panchito said. Tina smiled, "Alright." She said and opened the door wanting to see the rooster's fury. It took the opening of the door for Panchito's rage to start. He broke through the casts and bandages as if they were merely wrapping paper, and stormed into the living room, pistols packing. He aimed for the television and shot it, just as Daniel Tosh was getting to another punch line. "Hey what gives, we were watching that?" Donald said. Panchito smiled and aimed his pistol at him, "You were? Oh lo siento Senor Donal' I didn't realize that your precious television was more importante than saving my ass from being locked in a broom closet!" Donald sighed, "I'm sorry Panchito, don't take personal or anything, it's not you couldn't take care of it yourself you know." Panchito nodded, he realized this. He bench pressed 250 lbs. and was in the Marines for a little bit. The rooster still smiled, "I have something to show you, a belated birthday present." He said. "Really, what is it?" Donald said. "This," he said, grabbing the duck by the collar, "like this barrel!" He said pointing the gun towards Donald's face. "No, I don't, please Panchito, stop, you're making a big deal out of nothing, it's not a big deal."

"Shot him!" Tina said, "I want some roast duck!" Panchito turned and loaded his pistol, "Gracias senora, for stepping into my view." He said slyly. "Why is that?" Tina said. "Because," Panchito said, letting Donald go, running and pole vaulted over the couch, "you're a crazy psychopath," he said, "you almost made me kill Donal', you're sick you know that." Tina smiled, "I didn't do anything, you did that yourself." Panchito sighed and nodded, "Lo siento Donald, ¿Se puede perdonar?" He asked. Donald looked at me and motioned downward for subtitles.

_Can you forgive me?_

Donald nodded, "Sure I forgive you." Panchito smiled, "Gracias mi amigo, no pierdas ese espíritu." Donald was a bit confused, "Um, writer?"

Yes

"Subtitles please." Donald asked.

It's really sappy but okay: _Thank you my friend, don't lose that spirit._

"Wow that is really sappy." Donald said.

Told you.

Panchito aimed his pistol at Tina. "Ready to tango?" He said. "Tango?" Tina said. "Si," Panchito said, sheathing his pistol and pulling out the red rose. If you got to impress the crazy girl, then you got to impress the crazy girl. As soon as Panchito began the famous dance, music started playing. He looked over and saw that Jose had put in a CD in the player. "Gracias Jose!" Panchito said with a smile, Jose saluted and watched. It was superb, like Dancing with the Stars good, only more authentic and less TV ratings related drama. Spinning. Dancing. Panchito even caught the rose in his mouth. Everything was perfect, and Tina was spellbound. "Now," Panchito said, when the dance was over, "don't make that mistake again." He said handing her the rose. "What mistake?" Tina asked. "The next time I'm in a closet, let me rot in there okay?"

A knock at the door. "Terry!" It was George. He was raving mad. "Open this damn door." Terry slowly got up and walked towards the door. "I got your back Senor," Panchito said pulling out both pistols, doing his habitual spinning. "That won't be necessary Panchito." Terry said. "Whatever," Panchito replied, "I'm for you though." Terry rolled his eyes and opened the door. George was standing in the doorway, arming himself with a large crowbar, and right arm in a sling. "Terry, where is that son of a bitch rooster!" He yelled. "Right here you racist jackass!" Panchito replied. "So," George said stepping into the house, "you think that you can just-" he saw Panchito's guns and look of a mad man in his eyes. George smiled sheepishly, "I was just kidding." Panchito smiled, "Oh, were you, I hadn't notice, you see," he said walking over to the portly man, "I don't really like it when you mistreat my friends you see." He said aiming the pistol at George's cheek, "So I suggest that you pay him for the day." George laughed, "I'm not giving worker's comp to that cheap inconsiderate-" Panchito cocked his pistols, just daring him to continue. "You were saying Senor George?" Panchito said, saying the name George more along the lines of Jorge. You can take the bird out of Mexico but you can't take the Mexico out of the bird. "I'll just be going then," George said trying not to enrage the bird any further, he didn't want another bullet. On the way out George looked at Terry, "You're fired." He said. Panchito began to charge and was about to shot the man's brains out but Terry stopped him, "Simmer down Paco." Terry said, calling the rooster by his family nickname that only his family uses. Panchito glared at George and sheathed his pistols, "One of these days I'm going to kill you." He said, "If anybody is going to mistreat mi amigos, it's going to be me." George laughed, "You're going to kill me? Ha, that'll be the day." Panchito smiled, _"I already did that you miserable little worm."_

George hobbled back into his car. His destroyed car. Panchito on the way out of the Dollar General did two things, one, slashed all four tires, and two, etched two words on the hood. "CULT LEADER", on the back in white window chalk, was the phrase, "I FOLLOW CHARLES MASON". The side of the car was covered in food remains, he in a matter of five minutes, became the most hated man in America. Flyers are everywhere, big blue flyers. On posts, buildings, billboards, everywhere. All thanks to a prankster of a rooster, who decided to deal with this terrible human being once and for all. Here's what this mischievous, devilishly clever bird came up with:

**Hello, My name is George Felipe Johnson Pork Florence, I have a horrible name and I am a horrible person who hates everyone and everything, especially the following:**

-Children

-Old People

-All nationalities except my own, I am a member of the KKK

-Annoying People

-Stupid People

-Candy

**Here's some things and people that I do like:**

-Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, and Charles Mason are my idols, I worship them

-Psychopaths, they're my best friends

-Halloween is a year round holiday (no candy, candy is forbidden and is punishable by death)

**So, come by and see me, I'll point out your flaws and tell you how terrible you are. I welcome mobs, riots, and I don't care if you burn down my house, I was going to do that anyway. **

**Again my name is George Felipe Johnson Pork Florence. I live at 666 Twilight Zone Way. Ironic right? I am starting a cult too. _This is for George_**

**Here's all the things we hate:**

-Cake

-Pie

-Desert

-Humanity

-Candy

-Everything good in this world

(But we'll gladly accept Ice Cream, we'll leave that alone)

**Come on by and join, it's FREE! **

A picture of George, holding a thumbs up and smiling is on the right side with everything else on the left. It was everywhere. George quickly drove home and found two things, a mob and several news vans. "Mr. George, Mr. George, Mr. George," a news anchor said, "Is it true that you are a cult leader?" George sighed, "No I am not a cult leader, that blasted rooster put all those signs up..."

Author's _'Voice of God'_ Voice: MEANWHILE BACK AT TERRY'S HOUSE...

The television was on and Panchito gathered everyone, "Look, and watch the beauty." He said as he turned up the volume. George was still in his driveway, sitting in his car, the reporter was still talking to him. "Who put up the signs?" George answered and looked into the camera, "Panchito Pistoles, that same arsonist rooster who burned down Jesse Summers' house!" The reporter laughed, "You're serious, a rooster did this?" George nodded, "Yes a fucking rooster did this, he ruined my life." The reporter nodded trying not to laugh himself to death, a vengeful rooster sounded crazy. "Any particular reason why he would do this?" George rolled his eyes, "I'm an asshole, but that's not the reason he put up the signs, it's because I fired his roommate." Panchito smiled and picked up the phone and called George. On the TV, the cell phone rang. "Hello?" George said. "Ahola Senor Dickhead," Panchito said, "how's national TV?" George removed the phone from his ear, "It's him!" He said. The reporter smiled, "Put it on speaker." George did so. "Panchito," the reporter said, "this is Duke Wales of Channel 5 News," he said with a smile and wink, the egoistical jerk. "Oh si Senor Wales, what can I do for you eh?" Panchito asked. "Tell me, why did you do this to George?" Panchito sighed, "Because," he paused, "make sure your editor gets this," he paused again, "George is a complete and total asshole, he hates everybody, and he treated my friend like shit, fired him because he was hurt. George are you listening to me?" George nodded, "Yeah I'm listening to you."

"Good," Panchito said, oh, hold on," he turned around and saw Terry sitting down, he wanted the phone, "Terry wants to talk to you okay?" George sighed, "Whatever." Duke was smiling and laughing, "This is gold." He said. "Hey George," Terry said, "you're a fucking asshole, don't even bother about firing me, I quit." He put the phone on speaker, "Alright, everyone on three, one, two, three.."

"ADIOS DICKHEAD!" Cried Terry, Tina, Panchito, Jose, and Donald at once and Terry hung up the phone. They all watched as George's face grew pale and he slumped back in his chair, "I'm sorry Terry." He said, "You can have your job back." Terry smiled, and redialed the number. "Fuck you." He said and hung it back up.


	10. If We Ever Get Into the NFL

**Panchito**

**_"Don't Do Anything Stupid on Halloween/Night of the Living Hangover"_**

**Just in time for Halloween! YAY, I've been wanting to do this one for a very long time, and I finally have the means to do it. **

**NOTE: Rat (Ratty), Cyril, Mole (Moley), and Mr. Toad are all from _The Wind in the Willows (_the versions from _The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad- 1949, _not The Wind in the Willows book by Kenneth Grahame, although they are basically the same)**

**Chapter One: If We Ever Get Into the NFL **

Panchito, Jose, and Donald were out Halloween candy shopping at Wal-Mart. They walked through the section that had the costumes and pictured themselves in them. Donald however, went dressed the same every year, himself. A sailor, with different variations, that always seemed to be out of style. Last year, he went as a vampire sailor, this year he would be a ninja sailor. He had apparently been practicing for the better part of seven ye...minutes. As the other two moved on to other sections of the store, the duck was beginning to get into his Zen and grab a pair of toy nun chucks, he was transfixed by something else. Mr. Toad.

Mr. Toad, a small, olive-green fellow, who was, well a toad, who was accompanied by his horse, Cyril. "Cyril my old chap," he said, in his annoying, pompous British accent, "what do you say we binge on sweets today?" Cyril thought for a moment and nodded, "Sounds like a plan to me governor!" Almost immediately the two began to rip many bags of candy. Snickers, Hershey Bars, Twizzler's, assorted minis, all of them destroyed by these two irresponsible adults, seriously, these two made Panchito look like an honest statesmen, as if there were any of those anyway. "Um excuse me," Donald said, "are you guys going to pay for that stuff?" He asked. Toad stopped gorging himself on a half eaten Mr. Goodbar and looked at the duck with a laugh, "How much will it take for you to keep this between ourselves eh old boy?" He said with a laugh pulling out a wad of cash. "Um, I don't think that's a good idea Toady," Cyril said, "bribery is an offense in these parts." Toad nodded and winked, "I know that my good Cyril, I'm just seeing if this oaf does." Donald didn't say anything really after that. He just tried to grab the rest of what wasn't destroyed and walked away. He looked at what he had grabbed and sighed, "Really?" He said, "I got a one measly bag of suckers, a bag of Twix, and one Kit-Kat bar?" He turned back around and saw that Toad and Cyril resumed their escapade, "Oh, that's it." He said and dropped the bags of candy on to the nearest shelf, not caring if anyone took them.

"Excuse me Mr. Toad," Donald said, rolling up his sleeves, preparing himself for a fight of some kind, "but don't you think it's inconsiderate to just eat all of candy? What about other people?" Toad laughed, candy stuffs still in his mouth, "Other people! I can _buy_ them." Donald nodded, "Yeah but you can also buy candy, so cough it up." He said. Toad shrugged his shoulders and spit out the chewed up chocolates and placed it in Donald's hand which was extended. "Here you are my good fellow." He said and walked away. Cyril looked at that, smelled it, smiled and said, "You going to finish that?" He asked. Donald shook his head and turned away disgustingly as the horse ate from his hand, slobber and god knows what else got all over him. When Cyril was finished he tipped his hat, thanked him, apologized for Toad's behavior and turned to leave. "Oh," the horse said, turning back around, "Old Rat should be popping along your way any second now. Shouldn't worry about him though, nice fellow that one, well, good day gov!" Cyril said and left the store.

Indeed Rat was coming along Donald's way. He was running, and wasn't looking too happy. "Something wrong?" Donald asked. Rat nodded and stopped, "Look at this mess!" He shouted, "They did the same thing with the televisions too, poor workers, pity they have to clean this up, I'll offer up my services later," he said, "after I deal with these two ruffians." Donald nodded, "That's very generous of you sir, what's your name?" The Rat extended his paw and tipped his hat with the other, "Walter Rat sir, but please, just call me Rat, everyone does, now, which way did they went?" Donald pointed in the direction Cyril and Toad went and Rat bid the duck farewell, "I'll be sure to stop by this year, afraid I didn't catch you last year, dreadfully sorry about that," he said, "where do you live?" Donald shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know exactly, ask Panchito." The Rat stopped in his tracks, "You're living with _him_? Out of all the people in the _world_, you're living with _him_?" Donald nodded. The Rat sighed and walked towards him again, "Here," he said pulling out a business card, "call this number." Donald looked at it, the card read, "Brain Surgeon" followed by his number. There was no formal name. "Trust me," Rat said, realizing Donald's confusion, "you'll need it. I'm surprised that he hasn't driven you batty, turn it over." He said. Donald did so and saw the Rat's number. "Just in case you ever need someone sensible to talk too, I don't really trust that rooster friend of yours," Rat said, "don't get me wrong, he's a good decent fellow, but decency only gets you so far, with Panchito, that is his name right?" Donald nodded, "He seems a bit, oh, how do they say it where he's from? Loco in the head." Rat made a circular motion with his hand over his ear. A crashing sound, followed by "Tallyho!" caused Rat to sigh and for a moment hate his life. "Call me later won't you?" He said walking away. "Sure." Donald said and put the business card in his pocket.

Panchito and Jose were looking in the groceries, specifically for food items that they would need for baking cookies and brownies, the same treats they always gave out every year. "Let's see here," Jose said, "we need brownie mix, icing, milk, and sugar." Panchito nodded, "Seems simple enough," he said, pushing a cart that was full of stuff. Useless. Mundane. Stuff. "Panchito!" Jose said, "We don't have enough money to pay for all this, this, junk!" He shouted. Looking at the shopping cart, Jose pretty much got it right. For one thing it was piled up at least seven feet from the top of the cart, and it was full of random stuff that no one would ever buy at the same time. A TV, a Texas Chainsaw Massacre DVD, a Chainsaw, a Goalie mask, flip flops, a paintball gun, paintballs, a red cape, fake blood, beer, a hockey stick, socks, toothpaste, ammo (for his pistols), body wash, shaving cream, a fan, wall paint, fishing pole, tackle, a basketball, a bowling ball, a baseball, a baseball bat, string, sixteen pillows, and finally a gift card to Lowe's. Panchito took another look at the stuff. "Wow," he said, "you really don't have enough money to pay for all this stuff." Jose stopped him, "Whoa, whoa, whoa mi amigo, did you just say _you _as in me?" He asked. Panchito smiled and patted his friend on his shoulder, "Come now Jose, when the zombies come and eat your face, you'll be glad you paid for all the stuff that I so graciously thought of buying that you so graciously purchased." Jose groaned, it was the same every year on Halloween. "Writer," Jose said, "explain to the nice people why I hate this time of year."

Sure Jose, I'll gladly do that. Maybe they'll sympathize a little.

"I sure hope so." Replied the parrot.

Now, basically, Panchito has this fear of monsters, particularly zombies and vampires. So every Halloween, Panchito makes a fort out of the house, this year it will be Terry's, and every year well, I won't spoil everything. Let's just say there's a reason Panchito has all this stuff in a cart.

"I have a reason that all of this stuff is in this cart." Panchito said, "Yeah, to drain my wallet." Jose answered. "Whatever, let's just get the ingredients." He said, and so they split up and in five minutes they had everything they needed. Walking back to the cart, the two birds had a dilemma however, the stuff piled up way too high. It almost touched the ceiling. "Okay," Jose said, "if this falls on top of us and I die and you just so happen to live, I'm going to haunt you for the rest of your life." Panchito laughed to himself, "Don't worry Jose," he said, leaning against the stuff, and placing the milk and sugar, which he was in charge of getting, in the cart. "everything is going to be just fine." He said, "Really because it's leaning this way you smartass." Jose said. Panchito looked up and saw that the pile of stuff that he collected was beginning to look like a Dr. Seuss hill, extreme lean towards the left and looking like it was about to fall over. "It's alright," Panchito said, "as long as no one bumps into it or does anything stupid, we'll be a-okay." He looked towards the checkout lines and saw that Mr. Toad and Cyril were coming up awfully fast, and that random shoppers were dodging and fearing for their lives. "Come on Cyril!" Toad said, "Speed it up old boy!" He commanded and the horse did so. "Ramming speed, ramming speed, ramming speed!" Cyril chanted, like he were in a football game. "Oh no," Panchito said, stepping in front of the cart facing the incoming horse, "you're not going to fuck with me this time Toad." He said and pulled out a pistol. Suddenly a woman said a very cliché timely statement, "He's got a gun!" She screamed, prompting others to scream and run. The horse still continued charging. "Come on you rooster!" Toad dared, "Shoot me." Panchito smiled, "Alright," he said and shot him. Cyril stopped and saw that Toad lay down on the floor, the bullet missed. "Are you mad man?" Toad said getting up, "Well some say I need therapy." Panchito answered. Toad nodded, "You should talk to Ratty, he knows all about these sorts of things." He looked up at the massive pile and smiled, "I say, what an expressive spending spree this is!" He said, "Might I say, whatever is it for?" Panchito smiled, leaned down to the Toad's level, and whispered, trying not to let Jose hear. "I _hate_ teenager trick-o-treaters, you see," Panchito said, "and so, I'm going to pull a few tricks on them. A little revenge." Toad nodded, "I love it, adventure, excitement, the thrill of mischief. All wonderful, well," he said looking at the cart, "mind if I take this." He said as he quickly pushed the cart away. Panchito didn't have time to react to anything, because the cart was already halfway down the aisle and halfway down to the floor. So the rooster and parrot watched as the toad and horse whisked away with their stuff and fail miserably at guiding the poor helpless cart, who simply gave up and spilled its contents just as Rat was coming around the corner. _Crash. Bang. _"A little help please!"

Panchito and Jose rushed over towards the pile of stuff. "Senor!" Jose said, "Are you okay?" He asked, "Si, are you alive?" Panchito added. "I'm perfectly alive thank you very much, now if I'm okay is an entirely different matter, now if you don't mind I'm kind of stuck here." Rat said still underneath the stuff. As they quickly moved the TV, a Texas Chainsaw Massacre DVD, a Chainsaw, a Goalie mask, flip flops, a paintball gun, paintballs, a red cape, fake blood, beer, a hockey stick, socks, toothpaste, ammo (for his pistols), body wash, shaving cream, a fan, wall paint, fishing pole, tackle, a basketball, a bowling ball, a baseball, a baseball bat, string, sixteen pillows, and finally a gift card to Lowe's off of Rat's small body who was conveniently near the checkout line anyway so they just hit two birds (no pun intended) with one stone, Toad and Cyril walked out of Wal-Mart. "Hey!" Donald said, running towards the toad and horse, "You forgot something!" He said. "What is it?" Toad said a bit annoyed that they were interrupted in escaping. Donald breathed hard and slowed down from his run and put up his hand, "Guess which one." Toad fake laughed, "Ha, ha, very amusing, now let's go Cyril." He said and they left.

Rat dusted himself off and walked out with the three birds. "Thank you all for helping me today," Rat said. "Goodness knows I need it time and again. Toad can be a really be an ass." Donald smiled, "He_ is_ an ass Ratty." Rat laughed, "Ha, ha so he is!"

"So Donal'" Panchito said, "what candy did you get?" Panchito asked. Donald sighed, "Unfortunately, I didn't anything." Panchito was surprised, "What? Really, how so?" Donald was about to answer when Toad and Cyril were at it once again, and provided the duck with the answer. They were in the parking lot, stealing food, especially candy, from other people's trunks when they were getting in their cars. Donald quickly walked with a purpose over to them. "Pardon me but you forgot something." He said. Toad looked up and smiled, "You again, well, let me just say." Donald cut him off, "Shut up you miserable fuck." He said and punched him, hard in the jaw. "Wow," Toad said seeing stars, "I think I see the Big Dipper!" Donald stared at him, "Yeah well you're about to go up with it if you don't quit it you selfish little thief." Toad laughed, "And you're going to stop me?" Donald was livid, his face was boiling red, and he did his famous temper tantrum. He picked the little guy up, steam coming out of his nose, looking very much an evil bull for a moment. "W-w-what are you going to do?" Toad asked, a bit scared now. "Oh, nothing just play a little game is all." Donald said. He looked at Panchito and Jose and nodded once. The other two repeated, they knew what he was up too, and they got into position.

This was Donald's creation by the way. It was called "If We Ever Get Into the NFL" which had a simple concept. Get a douchebag, like Toad for example, and pass him to Panchito, who would pass him to Jose who would pass him to Donald again, and they would continue this pattern with random strangers if there were any around until they reached the worst possible place to put the guy, be it a garbage can, or a dumpster, a drainage pipe. Whatever. It wasn't a crime if the guy was a dick, they even got the okay from the police to do this.

So Donald spun Toad around as if he were pitching underhanded which made Toad really dizzy, "What are you doing!" Toad screamed. "Taking you for a ride dickhead." Donald said and whistled, "QB!" He shouted and hiked Toad to Panchito who ran a bit and whistled, "Wide Receiver!" He shouted and passed Toad to Jose. Donald meanwhile was running outside the "line" as Jose was trying not get ran over by Cyril, who was Toad's defensive linemen. A big, scary, four hoofed, defensive linemen, who honestly didn't know a single thing about football. Jose whistled, "Back to Center!" He shouted in mid throw, Donald caught Toad again, who by this time was about to throw up. "Give up yet?" Donald asked, "Never!" Toad said. "Very well!" Donald said, and was going to throw it back towards Panchito but realized that Cyril was charging towards him. Donald panicked for a moment and didn't know which way to run. Ratty during all this was just laughing his head off, until he saw Cyril charge towards Donald. He sighed as he calmly walked towards the oncoming horse. He whistled, "Cyril!" He shouted, Cyril stopped, "Yes?" He said. "How's about doing me a favor, a dastardly devilish one?" Cyril nodded, "What do you need?" He said, leaning down to his level, the Rat whispered in his ear and every passing second the horse's smile got bigger and bigger. "Alright gov," Cyril said, "you can count on me." He said and charged towards Donald again, just as it looked like he was going to run over him, Cyril took a sharp left and whinnied. Donald smiled and threw the Toad over to Cyril. "Cyril!" Toad said, thankful that the wild ride was over, or so he thought. "I'm awfully glad to see you, let's head for home." Cyril smiled, "I actually got a better idea than that governor." He said, "Where are we going?" Toad asked, not really caring as long as if it didn't involved him being thrown in the air again. Cyril stopped and winked at Ratty, who winked back. "A little joy ride you might say." He said turning around. "Cyril, what are you doing?" He said. "Just a little game is all." Toad's eyes grew bigger than his head, "Please don't do this to me Cyril, we're old friends you and me." Cyril nodded, "Aye, but to be honest Toady, sometimes, you can be a dick." He said and bucked, causing Toad to fall off him. Toad fell very slowly which gave Cyril just enough time to execute the dastardly devilish plan Rat architected. "Yo, QB!" He shouted as he hind kicked Toad back towards Wal-Mart. Panchito never ran harder in his life, he smiled, _"Good plan Senor Rat,"_ Panchito laughed, "Ha ha, here we go!" He said as he jumped an impressive five feet in the air (escape from chicken farms and years of acrobatics saw to that) to catch Toad, only to slam him down in a passing runaway cart. As Panchito body slammed the miserable Toad in the cart, Toad had a feeling that his behavior caused this somehow, he was a late bloomer when it came to realization. "I'm awfully sorry about all this old chap," Toad said to the rooster who was on top of him, "can we let bygones be bygones?" He asked. "That depends," Panchito said, getting out of the cart, "you apologize!" Toad laughed as he sat up, "Apologize! I never apologize for anything!" He said. Cyril walked over, "Well in that case," he said, he turned to Panchito, "do you mind if I uh-" Panchito smiled, "Of course do the honors!" Cyril nodded and backed up, "Adios Imbecile!" He cried running towards the cart, hitting it head on sending the little cart with the little Toad down the parking lot lane conveniently just as a car was coming. _Screech! Crash! Splat. _

Panchito, Donald, Jose, Cyril, and Ratty looked on cringing, "Oh that's going to hurt in the morning," Donald said. "It's going to hurt his wallet too," Panchito said, "does he have insurance?" Ratty and Cyril shook their heads. "It's a shame too, he's not such a bad fellow when you get to know him, he's just goes off sometimes." Rat said. "He's need to get," Cyril began to say before he cleared his throat, "Allstate." He said mimicking the commercial actor. "Bad pun alert, he's not in good hands." Rat said. Laughs. Clichés. Moving on.

Meanwhile, Terry was decorating the house, he was feeling relatively better, he hadn't fully healed from the accident but had healed enough to move around. Tina brought out battleaxes, swords, and a torture chamber that she all kept in her closet. "Um," Terry said putting up the fake cobwebs, "no Tina, remember last time we put out those." Tina shrugged her shoulders, "No what happened honey?" She said. Terry rolled his eyes, "The FBI came dear, they put you on the Most Wanted List." Tina laughed, "What's that?" She said, "I have no idea what that is?" Terry smiled, "You're serious right?" Tina nodded, "Yeah, I honestly have no idea what that is." Terry sighed, "Sweetie, I love you, but boy, you're stupid." Tina smiled, "Thanks Terry, I'll remember that when I decapitate your face in twenty years." Terry smiled. "We're not getting married Tina." He asked. "The only reason I'm with you is to please my mother." Tina smiled, "And that's why I love you Terry." she said, pulling a knife. Terry nodded and continued putting up the family friendly decorations while Tina began to re-Nazify the house. Terry could hear the three birds and two others, Brits, pulling the shopping cart full of stuff. He looked out the front door, which was open to let in some breeze, and saw the horse, rooster, parrot, duck, and rat singing a song that went something along the lines of this:

"We don't really care where we are or where we are going, we just love to sing the travel song!" Repetition, glorious, annoying, repetition. It was loud. Purposefully annoying, and off pitch. It was so horrible that Terry's neighbor, Scotty McFarley, the Scotsman, who never left his house and talked to inanimate objects who was busy raking leaves shook his head. "Hey!" Scotty said, "If you're gonna do that, sing a _real_ song you idiots!" He shouted. "Oh yeah," Cyril said, "like what?" Scotty smiled as he walked over to his porch and grabbed the bagpipes. He began playing _"Scotland the Brave"_ out of tune and rather horribly. It had been a few minutes...decades since McFarley had played any instrument. But he still wore his kilt and high knee socks, and basically any stereotypical Scottish dress, like any good Scot would. Every person in the neighborhood heard it, and they plugged their ears and prayed to God to just kill them now so that their misery would end. As his friends were plugging his ears, Ratty walked over to Scotty and pull out a revolver which he carried. "Stop this noise please," Rat said firing the weapon in the bag of the bagpipes, causing the sound to deflate and stop. "thank you." He smiled and tipped his hat. "Why you little devil! I was just about to finish, you couldn't even let me do that!" He turned to his lawn mower which he always kept out, "Craftsman, attack!" The lawn mower of course said and did nothing. Rat looked at Scotty with confusion, "Are you mad sir?" He asked politely, "Am I what?" Scotty asked. "Mad, you know, deranged, loony, a sufferer of schizophrenia?"

"Schizophrenia?" Scotty said, "No I don't have that lad, now," he turned to the lawn mower, "shut up Crafty you'll get your chance." He turned back to Ratty, who smiled and bid him farewell, "Well, best be off, good day sir."

"Hold it right there lad," Scotty said, Ratty turned around. "Yes what is it?" He asked. "You owe me a new set, that'll cost you around, oh, three hundred twelve and a quart pounds, or five hundred dollars."

"Three hundred twelve and a quart!" Rat exclaimed, "Or five hundred dollars," Scotty added. "Quite right," Ratty said, "I just don't have the means you see, I'm a Water Rat, I live on the river, and I'm afraid not much income is brought in." Scotty nodded, "Well, looks like you'll have to pay another way then." He said. "Like what?" Ratty asked. "Indentured servitude." Rat laughed, "_Indentured servitude!_ Are you serious?" Scotty nodded, "Seven years will do it." Scotty said. "Have you heard of the thirteen amendment!" Rat cried. "This is an outrage, I'm a citizen you know, I have rights, this is complete and total anarchy!" He paced back and forth, "Anarchist! Oppressor! Debauchery! "

Panchito, Jose, Donald, and Cyril looked over at the screaming Rat, he was obviously mad about something. "What is he mad about eh?" Jose asked. "No telling with Ratty, never seen him get mad before, so it must be _something_."

"Hey, let me go you filthy beast!" Rat cried trying his best to break his grip. Scotty held him in his left, Rat's pistol was in his right. "So, marksman, if you won't pay, time to die then." Rat flinched and heard a gunshot. He opened his eyes and saw that Scotty had been shot. Panchito's guns were smoking. One was pointed towards Scotty's torso and the other destroyed the other bullet. It breaks the laws of physics, but here's sort of what happened...

Panchito has a set of bullets that fit his pistol. He was a cartoon, therefore cartoon pistol with cartoon bullets. They all had names, Victor, Pedro, Santos, and finally Jim. They all seemed to come back after each use, which was fine with Panchito, they were his friends after all. "Alright Victor, Pedro, time to go to work." Panchito said as he loaded them into his pistol, which was in truth a six shooter revolver. The other two bullets were normal bullets. "About time!" Victor said. "Si Senor, por fin, vamos!" Pedro cried and Panchito laughed. "Bien, aquí vamos!" Panchito shouted and aimed the revolver towards Scotty, "Adios Senor McFarley." He said and fired. Victor and Pedro flew through the air. Pedro came into contact with the other bullet, "No hoy senor." Pedro said and exploded the other bullet. "See you around Pedro!" Victor cried and went into Scotty's torso.

Scotty looked down and saw that he was bleeding, he laughed. Ratty looked at the wound and was afraid, making mental notes, _Don't mess with the rooster._ As Scotty fell to his knees, he dropped Rat and his pistol. Rat landed on the ground and grabbed his weapon, he was about to go when he felt saliva hit the back of his head. He turned around and saw that Scotty was looking at him, angry, and ticked off. "What are you going to do?" He asked. Rat raised his pistol, "Dreadfully sorry about this but," he loaded his pistol, "time for you to meet your maker, any last words?" Scotty was about to say something when Rat cut him off, "Oh well, fuck sentimental clichés." He said and shot him in the head. Then Rat turned to me, "Can we please have a nice decent happy ending to at least one chapter?" He asked.

No. There must be death at least once.

"But wouldn't that cause the reader to be bored?" Rat continued.

Possibly but that's on what reviews are for.

"Really?" Rat said, he leaned out and looked at my screen, which had this website on it. "Well, it looks like you haven't got much in the way of reviews now have you, only two people has really responded, three really, but he really doesn't count, he is your brother after all."

Ratty.

"Yes sir?" He said.

Shut up, I bet no one has ever told you that have you.

"Well there was this one time when-"

Author cuts off annoying character describing a story that no one really cares about. Rat looked at me and nodded, "Point made sir, point made, now, get back to script your making me bored." Alright, alright Rat just chill.

The four friends entered the house, Cyril stayed outside, cause he's a horse and would break everything, so he stuck his head in a window to stay in conversation. Rat looked around at the new surroundings and nodded in approval, "Just like Moley's place." He said. "Who's Moley?" Jose asked. "Mole," Rat corrected, "a dear friend of mine, a bit naive, but a good decent fellow such as yourselves-" he stopped in mid sentence when he saw Tina's torture chamber and devices. Rat stepped back slowly and began to sweat, "Um, I best be going chaps, thanks for the assist." He said as he quickly made for the door. "Don't worry Senor Rat," Panchito said, "I'll make sure you're okay, besides, she's not that bad really." Rat turned around, "She?" He asked. Panchito nodded. "Si, _she_." Panchito emphasized. "Who is this woman might I ask." Rat said. "Tina." Donald said. Rat's eyes grew big, he had heard of this crazy, neo-Nazi psycho, "You mean _the_ Tina?" Rat said. The three birds nodded. "The one who broke out of Black Dolphin Prison, killed three guards, and hijacked an airplane all to kill her boyfriend?" All of the birds nodded but stopped after that last part. "What do you mean amigo?" Panchito asked. Rat put a paw over his face, not believing that they hadn't realized it before. He motioned all of them to huddle together, "Listen," Rat said, "this woman is going to kill all of you, tonight I suspect."

"How do you know this?" Donald asked.

"Are you serious?" Rat said, looking at Donald as if he hadn't been paying attention, "she's a crackpot, a leaky faucet, a dumbbell, a psychotic Hitler worshiping dumbbell, you need to get out of here now!"

"Aren't you being a little paranoid Senor Rat," Jose said, "I mean she hasn't done anything yet."

"Si, that's a good point, besides, what proof do you have?" Panchito said. Rat shook his head and looked past all of them and saw that Tina was wielding a large knife and standing behind Terry just as he was sitting down in the chair. "Does that answer your question!" Rat yelled. Tina raised the knife and smiled deviously a bit. The three birds turned around at the same time and also at the same time jumped and tackled the crazy bitch to the floor. "Tie her up gentlemen," Rat said very general like, "let's have a little talk." Terry, who was drinking coffee, looked over, saw the commotion and shrugged his shoulders. "Eh," he said reaching for the remote, "let's see what's on TV shall we?"


	11. Finding the Headless Horseman's Head

**Chapter Two: Paranoia or Finding The Headless Horseman's Head**

**(I'd like to give a couple of shout outs to _TheNewIdea_ and_ zurpocalypse_. You guys are awesome! Thanks for reviewing and keep up with this story, it means a lot. Hey, check out these guys stuff, it's good and worth reading! As always, I'm welcome to reviews, I consider and implement your ideas (if you want to see something happen, let me know, I thrive on feedback!) and remember, it's all comedy. Nothing literal here. Let's keep the laughs coming, spread the word!)**

Tina woke up tied to a chair in a dark cold room with a single lamp and a table. "W-where am I?" She said. "You my dear," Rat said standing upon the table, "are at the police station, or, the garage." Tina laughed, "Did you just call the garage a police station?" Rat wasn't in the mood, "It's about to be one." He said. Tina smiled, "Are you are the policeman?" She asked. "Here I am the law, the judge, the jury, the arbiter of your life you wench!" Rat got in her face, his head was about to explode. He was furious, and had the look of a crazy mad man. "You're going to rot in the Mexican jail for this. There will be no sweets for you." Rat said with a smile. Tina laughed, "Like I give a fuck about that" She said. Suddenly from behind her in the shadows of the room, a lasso flew through the air and landed on the woman's neck. She coughed and chocked, "What the hell is this!" She screamed as the rope was taught around her neck like a noose. Rat smiled, "You are charged with committing murder my dear," Rat said with a smile, "I'm afraid it's the Mexican jail for you." Tina looked at the Rat and laughed, "What's the Mexican jail?" She said. The rope pulled, and pulled, and pulled until Tina flew backwards out of her seat and was dragged forcefully with one pull on the ground. The shadows prevented her from seeing who it was who held the lasso but she could guess on who it was. The lassoer quickly lifted the rope up, bringing Tina with it. He pulled out a shiny, silver barrel revolver. "Panchito?" Tina asked. The lassoer smiled, "Ahola senora, you like the effect yes?" The rooster said with a playful smile. "Panchito," Rat said very assertively. "the Mexican Jail please." Panchito nodded, "Si jefe," he said, "come on, let's go."

Panchito led Tina out of the garage and back into the house. "Where are you taking me?" Tina said still be dragged around with the lasso. "Oh, just no place." Panchito said with a smile as they entered the kitchen. It was a mess. The food that was in the fridge was now in coolers. Terry was putting the last of the food in the last cooler he had when they walked over to the fridge. "Everything ready?" Panchito asked. "Yep," Terry said, "everything's ready, we're letting her go after tonight though right?" Terry looked at Tina and winked, he had something up his sleeve. "Si senor!" Panchito said, "we're not heartless or anything." Tina laughed, "You just gave me rope burns." Panchito smiled and removed the lasso from her neck. "Lo siento senora, I'll make it up to you." He said. "You could tango with me again." Tina said. Panchito laughed as Terry opened the fridge and Panchito pushed Tina into the fridge. "Hey!" She said as the door shut behind her, "what the hell man!" Panchito and Terry high fived. "I'll send you a sympathy card later." Panchito said and put a sticky note on the fridge, "Warning: Beware of Dog"

Rat come in moments later, smiling and laughing at his engineered plan. "Well that worked." He said. "Si!" Panchito said, giving Rat a low five. "Who's playing?" Rat asked sitting in the chair. "Packers and Saints." Terry said.

"Oh..." Rat said with a pause, "go Packers!" He shouted. A touchdown, screaming and mini flag waving. Cyril, with his cheese head hat on, waved a mini flag as he stuck his head through the living room window which was graciously opened for him, "Hey Ratty!" He said looking behind him. "Looks like Ichabod is coming down the road!" Rat got up from his seat and quickly ran across the room and jumped up to the windowsill. "Oh," he said looking out the window, "so he is." He waved towards him, "Hello Mr. Crane!" He shouted, "How are you today?" Ichabod smiled and ran over. "Oh hello Mr. Rat," he said with a tip of his heat, "how are things?" Rat smiled, "Couldn't been better, just stopping by for a few days with friends, want to come in?" He asked. Ichabod shook his head, "Actually Rat, I can't, I think I'm being followed." He said. "Followed by whom?" Rat asked.

"The Headless Horsemen!" Ichabod cried. "Who else would be following me, he wants," he swallowed his fear down his throat, "my head." Rat smiled, "Oh stop doing this to yourself, you're going to be just fine. It's just one night, you can survive one night can't you?" Ichabod shook his head and began to shake, "N-n-no, I-I-I can't, I need help." Rat sighed, "Come on in you miserable fool." He said. Ichabod quickly nodded, and hurried inside.

Ichabod quickly closed the door behind him, his heart was racing a million miles a minute. "Hey," Cyril said looking at him, "easy does it Mr. Crane, you'll be alright with us." He said, British cockney coming on strong. "Y-y-you think so?" He said. He looked around the room and started to calm down but as soon as he saw Panchito he started reaching for the doorknob, "I'm getting out of here!" He said, as he quickly opened the door. "I'm not being in the same house with that-that-that arsonist!" he shouted and ran outside again. He ran down the street, faster than any horse could to the nearest garbage can to hide in. He didn't get far though, because outside, doing some early trick-or-treating, the Headless Horseman, who was really just a big softy, was handing out his head, a pumpkin, as a candy bucket. After every visit, he would bow, cause his horse to do the same and be off to the next house. Ichabod was shaking in fear as the Horseman came by. He waved and his jack-o-lantern head smiled. Ichabod waved slowly and smiled, fearful for his life. He was about to shit his pants. "Hello Horseman." He said. The Horseman noticed that Crane was sacred so he put the pumpkin on his horse's head, who was a trusty stead, and got off. He extended his hand and patiently waited for Ichabod to receive him. He did, after the handshake, the Horseman saluted casually, got back on his horse and left galloping down the street.

Ichabod took a sigh of relief and headed back towards Terry's house. He saw that Panchito handed out the Horseman his candy, said goodbye, wished him luck and closed the door. Ichabod was walking up to the front door when the Horseman looked back and wielded his sword. Ichabod screamed like a little girl. Really, it was that scream. "LET ME IN!" He shouted pounded fiercely on the door. "Come on, let me in!" Cyril, who was standing next to him basically, turned towards him and stood in horror, "Crane! Look out!" He screamed. Ichabod turned and saw Scotty McFarley, who wasn't dead, charging towards him, ready to kill. Crane froze, his face full of fear, he whimpered, "HELP!" He screamed. Horseman to the rescue. The horse galloped full speed and the Horseman jumped on top of Scotty as the man was just about to run into the horse. "Who the hell are you supposed to be?" Scotty said, angry that the Horseman interrupted his siege of the house. "I'm your worst nightmare," The Horseman said, he got off the Scotsman and lifted him by the collar above his head, if he had one. "Don't ever think about coming near here again Mr. McFarley," he raised his sword up to the Scots neck, "I will haunt you for the rest of your days, and," he looked out onto the road and saw that his candy had been spilled, "you made me spill my candy." The Horseman said, "Now, I'm going to have to get some more," he said, "have any, no? Alright, fuck you bitch." The Horseman stabbed him into Oblivion's depths, he would deal with him later. "Ah, that's better," The Horseman said, sheathing his sword, "I hate being the bad guy." He said, walking over to Mr. Crane who was picking up the candy in the road for him and putting it in the pumpkin. "Thank you Mr. Crane, but it's by far ruined now, but thank you for helping." The Horseman said. Crane nodded, still shaking, "N-n-no problem." The Horseman laughed, "Ease up Crane," he said helping him up, "I got your back." Crane nodded, "Thanks I guess." The Horseman laughed again, "Stay safe now." He said getting back on his horse and rode down the street. Ichabod laughed, the type of laugh one gets when they can't believe something is happening to them and fainted.

"Hey, he's coming to!" Rat cried. "Pour water on him." Panchito said. Water. Ichabod opened his eyes and noticed that he was on the floor, Rat and Panchito were standing over him. They both smiled, "You alright Senor?" The rooster asked. He sat up and saw that the Horseman was sitting in the chair waving, "Hey, sorry, didn't mean to scare you like that." Ichabod screamed like a girl again, "Get, get away from me!" He said kicking and crawling backwards towards the wall. "Alright," The Horseman said, and his disappeared because he was a ghost and ghosts can do that. The next they heard sounded like crying. "Nobody likes me anyway!" It was the Horseman. Panchito looked at Crane, "Oh now look what you did, he was a nice fellow, apologize to him Senor." He said. Ichabod laughed, "Yeah right, he tried to kill me once you know, he's a crazy psychopath!" Panchito pulled out a pistol and looked at him, pleading. "Alright!" Ichabod said, "I'm sorry," he looked up at the ceiling, not really sure where the Horseman went. "You don't mean it!" The Horseman said, wherever he was, he was still crying like a baby. Ichabod sighed and stood up, "I'll try to do better about this, I promise, thanks for saving me back there, I do mean that," he said, "and," he sighed, can't believing he was doing this, "I'm sorry." The Horseman reappeared in the chair, a box of tissues in his hand and wadded up ones in the other. He was blowing his nose and wiping away the tears. "You mean that?" He said in between tears. Ichabod looked at him, "Of course I do, um, I'm sorry I'm not sure what to call you." The Horseman sniffled a bit, "Sergeant Reginald P. Winter," he said, "or just Horseman, I really don't care, just don't call me Headless Horseman if you please, I find it insulting and it makes me cry a little. I miss my head and still can't find it." Ichabod nodded, "Noted." He said, "What if we find it for you, your head I mean?" Panchito said. "You mean, you would help me find it?" The Horseman asked. "Of course! You're a Caballero now, I'll be happy to help you!" The rooster said enthusiastically pumping his chest a bit. "Thanks Mr., sorry I didn't catch your name?" The Horseman said. "Panchito." the rooster answered. The Horseman nodded and looked around the room. "You're sure you'll help me find it?" He said. "Of course sir," Rat said with a smile, "as my friend Toad would say, it'll be an adventure, excitement, the thrills of mischief!" He paused, "In other words," he said calming down, "I'll help you." Terry sighed and shrugged his shoulders, "Hell, it's not like I got a social life anyway, I'm in." Donald and Jose nodded, they were in this thing anyway, if Panchito was in it, they knew he would drag them along so they said in unison, "Well it's not like we haven't accomplished anything major in our lives anyway so, let's go."

So the group of friends and the Horseman with his horse, whose name was Baskerville, (who liked to be called Basks) walked down the street. "So," Terry said walking next to Basks, "where is this head of yours?" The Horseman shrugged his shoulders, "Well if I know where it was I wouldn't need help finding it now would I?" Terry rolled his eyes, "I meant where did you last have it?" He said. "Oh," the Horseman said, he stopped his horse and thought for a moment, "I believe it was on a hill somewhere, it was a battlefield, many fought and died, it was near here I suspect." He said, as he led the horse up the slow _incline _of the road. He stopped at the stop sign and looked around, "Yes I suspect that it used to be around here." He said. He extended his hand and summoned a series of shuffles out of thin air, he's a ghost, he can do that. "Here," he said, "everybody grab one and start digging!" He cried as he got off his horse and started excavating the road. "Isn't this illegal, tearing up a road without permits and all?" Terry asked. "Now is not the time for rules Mr. Dicks, you have an unfortunate last name," the Horseman said, "I can turn you into one of those if you don't shut up and start digging!" He said in a bellowing frightening voice that made everyone scared of him. The Horseman sighed, "Sorry, I just, miss my head is all." Terry nodded, "None taken," he said his voice a bit squeaky. Ichabod smiled, and Terry turned to him, "now I know how you feel." He said. Ichabod laughed and they started digging.

After about three hours or so, the sun was beginning to set and they had basically backed up traffic coming into this road. It was horrible. The news was there, the police, everybody who was anybody was at the corner of Victory and Barnes Street. Duke Wales was on the scene first as usual, "Excuse me sir," he said asking the Horseman, "but you're costume appears to be authentic. How did you manage to gather all the parts?" The Horseman stopped digging and answered, "They're all original, it's not a costume, as you so put it, they're my clothes, and I died in them thank you very much." Duke nodded, thinking this was all a publicity stunt of some kind, "And your horse?" He said. "Baskerville," The Horseman said, "he's an undead horse, but he's a good boy." He said, looking at his horse who was helping with the dig as best he could, because unlike Cyril, who was anamorphic horse, Baskerville was literally a normal horse, there was nothing Disney about him. The only one would could really understand him was Cyril for obvious reasons. "Right," Duke said, enjoying the moment, "you've obviously taken Robert Louis Stevenson's character well." He said. The Horseman was confused, "Who's he?" He asked. "Robert Louis Stevenson, he wrote," Duke laughed, "your book." He said. "Wrote my book?" The Horseman said, "I was never aware I was a literary character."

"Well," Duke said smiling and laughing, "_you _are!" He exploded into laugher. "You actually think you're _the_ Headless Horseman!" He cried, "If you're the real deal," Duke said, "then kill don't you kill me with your pumpkin head." The Horseman held out his hand and in an instant, a large pumpkin appeared from a dark black mist. Duke stopped laughing and his face went from comical to fear in three seconds flat. "You were saying?" The Horseman said. "N-n-nothing sir." Duke said. "Right, now, leave us alone won't you? We're busy." Duke nodded, "What are you trying to find?" He asked. "My head." The Horseman answered. "Right," Duke said, "good luck with that." He said as he ran down the street along with everyone else.

"I found it!" Ichabod said, "Really?" The Horseman said, walking over to him. "I think so," Ichabod said, "Is it a large skull, faints of a mustache, and all that sort of thing?" The Horseman leaned over and examined the find. It was a skull, a large cranium, mustache remnants, everything was correct. "Let's see," the Horseman said and picked up the skull and placed it on his shoulders. "Yup, it's mine." He said turning his head side to side and moving his mouth in various shapes. He smiled, "Thank you all," he said, "now," he whistled, and Baskerville came over, the Horseman saddled up, "anything I can help you with?" He asked. Terry smiled, "Mind heckling someone out of my house." He said. The Horseman laughed, "Who is it?"

Tina was in the fridge still, she was freezing and probably developing hypothermia. _"When I get out of here," _she thought, _"I'm going to kill them all." _She kicked the door, but it was no use because for extra measure, Panchito tied the fridge shut. It wasn't pulled it or anything but it was still cold. She finally started shivering, "I'LL SEND YOU ALL TO KINGDOM COME IF YOU DON'T GET ME OUT OF HERE!" She screamed and began trying to knock the fridge over, because you know, that always works. Suddenly she heard the rope being untied. "Finally," she said. The fridge door opened, "I'm going to kill you-" she looked and saw the Horseman, who didn't have his head for the moment, it was on the table in the living room with the others. He stood there on Baskerville, and his massive size cast a shadow of death and mystery. "W-w-who are you?" The Horseman laughed despicably, "You foolish mortal!" He said, his skull saying the words in the other room with everyone else laughing quietly, "You dare tamper with me you wench!" The Horseman pulled Tina up, who was screaming, "Put me down right now!" She said. "Oh don't worry," The Horseman said, "you'll be on the ground soon!" He said and placing Tina on his horse, he galloped towards the wall and travelled through it, Tina just slammed into it. "Ow!" She said feeling her head, she walked into the living room and saw the Horseman again, near his skull. The Horseman turned around and put on his head, "Leave mortal, never return, and if you do I'll smite thee to Oblivion!" He said wielding his sword and swinging at her Tina ducked, screamed, and ran out of the house terrified out her mind.

When she was gone the room filled up with cheers, applause, and hurrahs. "Well done Senor!" Jose said. "Si, Bienvenido amigo a mi familia." Panchito exclaimed. He looked around the room, "You know, you guys are all I got." He said, with all seriousness. He looked at me, "You count in this too." The rooster said.

Aw, I'm loved! :)

The rooster smiled, "Si mi amigo! Now, let's divirtámonos!" He shouted and told everyone to come outside. Once they were standing on the lawn Panchito turned towards the rest of the cul-de-sac, "Let's do some tricking yes?" He said, his mischievous smile and evil little gears in his head turning. "What do are you suggesting?" Rat said. "Oh," the rooster said with a smile, "a little bit of recon!" He said running towards the garage and opening it, revealing a massive barricade. Remember all that stuff he bought? This is the result of that stuff. Panchito had turned the garage into the ultimate man cave/fort. The TV was in the corner, the baseball, bat, and chainsaw were all on a rack. Panchito walked over and put the red cape, it was part of his costume, as well as the hockey stick, and goalie mask. He was going as a hockey playing chainsaw wielding vampire matador. The beer was in a mini fridge that was plugged in near the TV. Socks, full of dirt that Panchito took from the digging, were on a small table. Ammo was in a safe that was near the wall leading to the house. Fishing pole and tackle were upstairs in Tina's bedroom that overlooked the cul-de-sac as well as the paintball gun and paintballs. The fan was rotating air around the room and it was plugged up near the table. Toothpaste, body wash, and shaving cream because he was out of it and needed some. The gift card to Lowe's was used to buy wood which was then used to fortify the place. The sixteen pillows were just for comfort, and the string and bowling ball was part of a booby trap that Panchito constructed. All of this in preparation for teenage trick-o-treaters. He did all of this when the Horseman was heckling Tina, a very short time span. But nonetheless it was done and Terry was impressed, "I'm keeping this up." He said. "Hell ya you will!" Panchito said, "Come on amigos, enjoy, relax, and prepare to dominate the night!" He said as the group of friends entered the garage, watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre and prepared for the barrage of teenagers that were sure to come, that is until something unexpected happened...


	12. The Night He (Almost) Came Home

**Chapter Three: Halloween...The Night He (Almost) Came Home**

**Disclaimer: This chapter is high T (Horror movie violence/references)**

Tina crept back into the house, she honestly didn't care if the Horseman came back, she would handle it like any psychopath would, get a really big scary knife. So armed with her really big scary knife Tina slowly went through the kitchen and into the living room. Hearing the movie and the screaming from the garage, Tina decided to drown out the noise with the TV. Turning it on she saw the cult classic _Halloween_, you know, the original by John Carpenter, not the newer crappier version. It was just getting to the part when Michael follows Jamie Lee Curtis across the street to Tommy's house. Just then Panchito entered the room with an empty popcorn bowl. He noticed that Tina was in the room. "Oh, you're home!" Panchito said with a smile, "How are you doing?" He asked. Tina flipped him off, "Shut the fuck up I'm trying to watch a movie." Panchito shrugged his shoulders, "Geez, you don't have to be a bitch about it," he paused and fake coughed with his arm, "la perra." Tina turned towards him, "What the hell does that mean?" She asked. Panchito walked into the kitchen, grabbed a popcorn bag, poured the popcorn in the bowl and put it in the microwave. Panchito peered his head around the corner, "That's Spanish for bitch, bitch, which is what you are _sooo_..." Tina smiled, "Throw me one of your revolvers you cock." Panchito smiled, "Mucho gracias senora for noticing, I try to keep it conditioned." Tina smiled, "I bet you do." Panchito paused and thought about that statement, "You're sick you know that, I wasn't even going there, ugh, now that's in my head! You're terrible you know that?" He said as the microwave beeped and he grabbed the bowl. "Hand me one of your pistols please." Tina said. Panchito rolled his eyes and handed her one, "Alright, just don't do anything to-" _Bang! _Panchito ducked. "What the hell!" He screamed, a bullet hole was in his sombrero. The bird took it off, and looked at solemnly, he sighed, with tears falling down his face, "Adios amigo." He said. Tina laughed, "You're upset about a large hat? Wow, you have priority issues!" She said. Panchito put the sombrero back on and looked at the woman, "You want to know how this movie ends?" He asked. "How?" Tina said sarcastically, wanting to find out for herself. "Michael Myers gets thrown out of a balcony, after being shot three times in the chest." Tina smiled, "That's interesting." She said. Panchito motioned for her to stand up. She did so. "What are you going to do?" She asked. Panchito placed the popcorn bowl on the coffee table, "Oh, just a little reenactment." He said, punching Tina in the chest, forcing her to drop the pistol, which Panchito caught in mid-air. He then shot Tina three times in a row. She fell backwards, in slow motion it seemed because it took forever for her to fall on the floor. When she did she coughed up blood and stared at the rooster, who tipped his sombrero towards her, "Enjoy the movie." He said with a smile as he grabbed the popcorn bowl and reentered the garage.

Texas Chainsaw Massacre was just about over, Terry kindly paused the movie so that Panchito wouldn't miss anything. "So," Terry said, partaking in the newly presented popcorn, "what took you long?" He asked. Panchito sighed, "Oh you know, microwaves, popcorn, you know how it goes right?" Terry nodded. "Was it just me or did I hear gunshots a moment ago?" Ratty asked looking at Panchito questioningly. "No, it was the radio." He said. "Really, what program?" Rat said. "Um, War of the Worlds." Panchito answered. Rat nodded, "Sure, fifty years ago, you shot someone didn't you?" He said, looking at the rooster with a suspicious Sherlock Holmes inspecting eye. "No, why would I ever do that?" Panchito said. "You're a pistol packing Mexican politically incorrect stereotype who gets furious when salsa is poured on you." He said recalling an incident at last year's company Christmas party. "Well it was Goofy's fault." Panchito said. "Was it his fault for him to be placed in hospital for two months! Did you ever visit him, or anyone that you caused bodily harm to when they got in the hospital?" Rat said. Panchito looked at Terry, "One person," the rooster said. "look Senor Rat," Panchito said, "we can talk about how terrible I am at sending sympathy cards to injured amigos, okay, and we can harp all night long about my issues, but this isn't about me," he said, "it's about you being a fault pointing pompous little prick!" Panchito picked Rat up and sat him outside of the wall. "Lo siento." The rooster said. "You can't do this to me!" Rat screamed, "I'm the only British friend you got, and by George everyone needs a British friend." Panchito sighed and leaned over, "Okay, I lost my temper, lo siento." Rat smiled, "And?" He said urging him on. "And I need to make an appointment with my counselor." The rooster said. "_And?_" Rat said. Panchito rolled his eyes, "And I'm sorry about insulting you, I'm a hypocritical asshole." Rat raised his right hand. "I promise," Panchito sighed, raised his hand, "I promise." He repeated. "To never be cross, to always be honest and true to my friends, and to never leave their side, if I become an ass, then I shall be treated like one, and if I can't get over myself, I'll realize that I'll end up alone, broke, unemployed, homeless, friendless, and it'll all be my fault. I take sole responsibility for my actions, and I do solemnly swear above all else, to be nice, and to bake Rat a pastry every once and a while." Panchito repeated everything but stopped at the last sentence, "Really?" He said. Rat smiled, and nodded, "I like Danish, cheese, stereotypical of me I know, what are you going to do right?"

Just then a knock at the door. "I'll get it," Panchito said, "probably some of those 'trick-o-treaters'." He got up, entered the house, and opened the door. Standing in front of him was a small little boy, roughly the age of six, in a cowboy costume. Panchito smiled, "Oh, and who are you supposed to be?"

"The Lone Ranger." The boy said.

"Really, where's your Tonto or your Silver? Every Lone Ranger needs a Tonto and a Silver!" Panchito said enthusiastically, the Disney entertainer in him showing. Panchito loves kids, I mean duh, he's Disney, but he really did from the bottom of his pistol packing, crazy, wild, insane heart, put away the antics, and was completely normal for kids. "I don't know," the boy answered, "I don't know where my parents are." Panchito looked around, "Well, don't worry mi amigo, I'll help you find them alright? Now let's see?" He looked left, right, and all down the street. "Do you know where you live?" The rooster asked the child. The child pointed down the street towards the last house on the left. "Oh that's simple!" The rooster said with a smile, "Just go down the street and go home, I bet your parents are muy preocupados about you. Why don't you go home?" The boy shook his head, "I don't like my house, it scares me." Panchito laughed, "To tell the truth," he said kneeling down to the boy's level and whispering, "I'm scared of this place, the good news is you're not living with a crazy person." The boy shook his head, tear fell down his face, "I am actually, my parents, they-" came running up the street, all smiles and giggles. Panchito stood up, being a bit cautious, "Hi Mr. Pistoles," the father said, whose name was Jim, "awfully sorry about this, he just ran off a bit." The boy looked at his father, "That's not true!" He said. "Be quiet, adults are talking." Mary, the mother said. Panchito looked at both of them, gave them a stare that one would give a shady travelling salesmen who were selling volcano insurance. These people were selling volcano insurance, cloud 9 life insurance, and ketchup theft coverage, all in one smiling package. "No trouble," the rooster said, distributing candy to each of them, "stay safe now." He said, he slowly turned towards the house and was about to walk in but Terry and Tina came running in the door. "Jim, Mary!" They both cried with smiles and embraces. They all hugged, Panchito turned back around. "We're going out to a party Panchito," Terry said, "we'll be back late, possibly tomorrow, you're in charge of the house." The rooster nodded, not taking his gaze off the boy, "What's the niño's name?" The rooster asked. "Zach." Jim answered, "Well, so long." He said, and the four adults and the frightened child walked back down the street.

Panchito watched them walk down the street, "Something isn't right here," he said. He walked towards the garage, everyone was still sitting in their seats. "Levántate rápido amigos!" Jose and Donald looked at the rooster first, and they were the first up, "What's cookin'?" Jose said. "Now is not the time for jokes Jose, " he said vaulting over the barricade, "now is the time for action." Donald smiled, "Paintball?" Panchito shook his head, "No Donal', this is much more serious than that." Donald looked confused, "You're serious? You're never serious about anything." Jose nodded, "Si, what's really going on Panchito?" He said. Panchito sighed and looked at the Horseman, "Can I borrow your horse?" The Horseman shrugged his shoulders, "Sure." He whistled, and Basks appeared in front of the garage. "Muchos gracias." Panchito said, vaulting back over the barricade and getting on the horse. "What do I do eh?" The rooster asked. "Just tell him where to go." Horseman said. "Alright," Panchito said, looking at the horse, "see that house amigo," Basks looked down the street and saw the house he was talking about. "Go towards it." Panchito said, "Rápido!" He shouted and the horse bucked and charged down the road, letting the rooster hang on for dear life. "Whoa!" The rooster cried speeding down the street, "Despacio por favor!" Panchito pleaded, closing his eyes. He hated going too fast too suddenly. Basks stopped abruptly in front of the house, causing Panchito to fly through the air and into the stop sign. "Oh," the rooster said, getting up from the daze, "I think I broke my..." he cracked his back and screamed, "Ay! Mi espalda! I definitely broke that." He said, walking back towards the house. If he could Basks would smile, he did whinny though, Panchito took it as a laugh. "Oh shut up." He said and walked up to the door.

_ Knock. Knock. Knock. _

The door opened, standing in the doorway was Freddie Krueger. Not a person dressed as Freddie but _the _Freddie Krueger. "Can I help you?" Panchito nodded and smiled, "Si, is there a Zach that lives here?" Freddie thought a moment, "Hold on a moment will ya?" He said as he turned around, "Hey Jim, Zach's your son's name right?" Jim walked over to the door, "Yeah, why?" Freddie stepped aside and Jim took up the door space. "Oh hey, what's up with you?" Jim asked. "I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by if that's okay with you." Panchito asked. "Oh, well, come on in." Jim said with a smile stepping to the side. Panchito nodded and stepped in the house. Panchito noticed that this was a party. Full of serial killers. Hannibal Lector, Jason, Michael Myers, Freddie Krueger and Terry and Tina, who were drinking punch. Panchito was momentarily confused, so he walked over. "And just what the hell are you doing here?" The rooster asked being the overprotective parent. "Oh, hey Panchito!" Terry said with a smile, "We're just having a little fun." Panchito looked around and saw that everything was dark red, Edgar Allen Poe's the Red Death theme. "Yeah, with serial killers, that sounds like a good old time." The rooster said, "Come on, you're coming home, I don't want to see you get killed by mass murders and your girlfriend in her natural habitat." Panchito said. Terry smiled, "I appreciate it but you're not my father." Panchito nodded, "I know that, if I were that would require you to be in therapy and believe me you don't want to go to therapy, I still have nightmares, anyway, you're coming home, come on let's go." He said making his way to the door. "No Panchito, I'm staying here." Terry said. Panchito turned around and saw that in the middle of the room, Zach was crying and tied to a table. The rooster rushed over and untied him. Michael Myers stopped him, "I'd retie those if I were you." He said in a deep almost bass like voice. Panchito lifted Zach off the table, "Get out of here." He said. "Didn't you hear me?" Michael said, "I did," Panchito replied standing on the table, "and I don't give a fuck." He said as he pulled out a pistol and shot Michael in the head. Myers fell over, everybody looked at the body but quickly went back to their conversation. Tina and Terry looked at the rooster with shock, "Dude! What the hell!" Terry said, "He was going to play a party game with him." Panchito nodded, "Yeah, I bet it involves a big scary knife!" He said. "Opening your fucking eyes man, you're surrounded by crazy loons!" Panchito cried. Freddie turned towards him, "What did you just say?" Panchito smiled, "You heard me Krueger, I've been waiting a long time for this." Freddie smiled. "I bet you have." He laughed. Panchito had a bad experience with Mr. Krueger growing up, seeing Nightmare on Elm Street when he was six didn't help but it was the fact that Freddie haunted his nightmares and almost killed him once but actually killed his father. Ever since then Panchito has been looking for Freddie, and he finally found him. "What are you going to do huh?" Freddie said. "Shoot your fucking head off you motherfucker." Panchito said, raising his pistol and shooting Freddie in the head. Just then Hannibal and Jason grabbed Terry and tied him to the table. "Hey, let me go!" He yelled. "Sorry sir, but we're serial killers." Hannibal said. "Yeah," Jason replied, "we don't give a fuck about you." Terry looked at Panchito who was desperate and out of bullets, he just hung his head. "Panchito!" He said. "Ayúdame por favor!" Panchito smiled, "You're learning fast amigo." he said with a slight laugh. "Thanks, now get me out of here buddy." Terry said. "I thought you hated me," Panchito said, Terry sighed, "I do, very much so, but right now you're the only one who gives a damn about me so save my ass!" Panchito laughed and ran towards Jason, kicking him down. "Oh," Jason said with a smile, "we have a hero in our midst Hannibal, what are you a sheriff?" Jason asked. "No," Panchito said, punching him in the face, "just a Good Samaritan." He said, punching Jason again, knocking him out. The rooster took Jason's knife and wielded it. Hannibal Lector carried a chainsaw and revved it up. Panchito threw the butcher knife like a throwing knife towards Hannibal Lector. Lector laughed and looked at the wound, "Good throw." He said, falling over and dropping the chainsaw which fell towards Terry. Panchito jumped onto the table and caught it just before it sliced Terry in half. "I got your back senor." The rooster said. Terry nodded, "Let's get out of here huh?" Panchito nodded just as Jason stood up and reached out to ring the rooster's neck. "Crazy hockey player on your six." Terry said. Panchito nodded, turned around and cut Jason's head off with the chainsaw. He smiled creepily, and in truth enjoyed it. When that was done, he shut the chainsaw off, threw it on the ground, got off the table, untied Terry and hightailed it out of there, not really caring if Tina came or not. She was too busy being passed out on the floor.

Zach was with Basks when Panchito and Terry came running out. "Let's go!" The rooster shouted as he put Zach onto Basks who bolted back to the house. Terry and Panchito ran behind him. "Hey, thanks for the save back there." Terry said. "Don't mention it amigo." Panchito said. "I'm going for a Google internship tomorrow." Terry added. "Oh congratulations!" The rooster said, "Tell me all about it." Terry nodded.

They got back to the house, Zach was introduced to everyone and Panchito explained the events of the night. When he was done Donald and Jose were speechless, "So you really weren't kidding?" Donald said. Panchito shook his head, "No, I was being serious!" He said, "You guys never listen to me. Ever!" The rooster added. "Well we have good reason you know," Cyril said, who was laying down trying to sleep, "you're a liar." Panchito smiled, "I'll remember that Senor Cyril." Cyril smiled, "Don't mean nothing by it gov, just an observation is all." He said. "Quite right," Rat said, "we are your friends after all, even if you did behave rudely to me, you're still my, how you say, amigo." Zach smiled and walked over to the rooster and hugged him, "Thanks Panchito," he said. Panchito smiled and hugged Zach back, in a brotherly, almost fatherly embrace, "Hey, it's what I'm here for." Zach nodded and cried a bit, Panchito could feel the salty tears on his chest, but he didn't care. He patted the boy's shoulders and sighed. Everyone else was smiling too, it was like Christmas morning. Zach lifted his head and walked into the house. Panchito watched him and nodded, as he flopped into a chair, and closed his eyes, he took a long sigh, "Much obliged, much obliged indeed."

**So that was a happy ending to a chapter. Hope nobody got teary eyed or anything. Stay tuned for revenge with paintball guns, paintballs, and the beautiful toilet paper roll cause this Halloween night is about to get real!**

**Remember, to laugh some more. Spread the word!**


	13. Charlie Brown Got a Bag Full of Rocks

**Chapter Four: Charlie Brown Got a Bag Full of Rocks**

**(This chapter is kind of short but there's some humor to it)**

Zach entered the house and Rat followed after him just to keep an eye on him. They entered the living room. "Is there anyone would could call dear boy?" Rat said climbing onto the table with the phone. "My auntie." Zach said, "Do you her number?" Rat asked. Zach thought for a moment, "(555) 523-7894" he said. Rat nodded and dialed the number. "Hello madam," Rat said, "This is Walter Rat, do you happen to have a nephew by the name of Zachary?" He asked. "While yes," Zach's aunt said, whose name was Patricia. "Why, what have you done to him, is he hurt, if he is I'll-" Rat cut her off, "He's perfectly safe I assure you, I was wondering if you could pick him up, he's had a rough night." Patricia sighed, "Sure, what's the address?" She said, "1444 Victory Street." Rat said. Patricia wrote down the address, "Alright, I'll be right over." They both hung the phone up at the same time.

Patricia put the phone back on the cradle. "You heard him boys," she said turning around to a group of teenagers dressed in black and armed with paintball guns, "1444 Victory Street, go get Zach, bring him here unharmed, shoot the rest." The group, like a military squadron nodded simultaneously.

Panchito and the others entered the house and opted to take Zach trick-or-treating before his aunt came and picked him up. They made him feel like a prince, that's Disney for you though. Everything was going smoothly and people seemed to enjoy the masquerade of friends who were parading around the streets trick-or-treating for one boy. Zach was all smiles all the way. It was the happiest night of his life.

It got to the point when the Horseman took Zach to a couple of houses, and they were in the nicer part of town. They walked up to Scrooge McDuck's mansion of all places, Zach pushed the doorbell and Scrooge himself answered the doorbell. "Oh," he said with a smile, "here you go lad, best candy in town." He said, he looked up at the Horseman and smiled, "You're not _the_ Headless Horseman are you?" Scrooge asked. Horseman nodded, "Yeah, I am, but don't worry, I'm not so bad you see." A group of teenagers came up the driveway, and instead of asking the usual way they just pushed Zach down and took everything he collected and worked so hard for. "Ha!" One of them said, "like taking candy from a-" he stopped, in fact they all did. The Horseman wielded his sword, and Basks was not looking too happy. "Give the boy you're spoils, or face the gallows, your choice." The teenagers nodded and handed Zach all of their candy and ran off. Scrooge helped Zach up. "There you go," he said dusting him off, "you'll be alright with him." He said. "Thanks Mr. Scrooge." Zach said with a smile as he walked towards the next house. The Horseman turned to follow when Scrooge stopped him, "If you see Donald," he said, pulling out a letter from his pocket, "tell him Daisy sent for him. You won't mind will ya lad?" He said. The Horseman took the letter, "I'll deliver it posthaste Mr. Scrooge," he grabbed Basks reins, "the night is young, yah!" He said and left Scrooge's driveway. Scrooge smiled as he saw the Horseman and Zach continue down his street, "Nice boy," he said, "I wonder how the old Three Musketeers are doing or whatever they call themselves."

Um Scrooge.

"Yes?" Scrooge said looking at me, "what is it boy?"

They're The Three Caballeros.

"I knew that, I was just testing ya." Scrooge said with a wave of his cane and a smile, "You're a pretty nice fella you know, writing and carrying on like this with these three imbeciles running around. So if you don't mind me asking, whatcha gonna do next?"

You're going to have to wait and see like everybody else.

"Oh come on lad! One sneak peek for your dear old Uncle Scrooge." The duck said, practically pleading on his knees.

For one, you're not my uncle, and two, no, now go back inside until I tell you to, okay.

Scrooge sighed, hung his head and dragged himself inside. "I never get to have any fun of my own."

Twenty minutes later, The Horseman and Zach went back to the intersection of Scrooge's street, Penny Lane and John Lennon Street, the designated meeting place for the group. Moments later everyone came back with a treasure chest, Hershey Bars, the gigantic ones, Kit Kat bars, Milk Duds, suckers, caramels, all the good stuff. "Gee, thanks everyone," Zach said smiling. "It means a lot." Cyril smiled, "Hey, it's what friends do eh?" Just then a car came down the street. It stopped in front of them, Patricia was in the front seat. "Zach!" She said, smiling and waving, "That's my auntie," Zach said. "Gotta go." he said hugging each one of them and thanking them again. He waved as the car drove down the road, a barrage of goodbyes and adios was given. This was followed by pellet gunfire and Scrooge running towards them with his rifle.

"Run for home lads, we got company!" He said, pellets of red and blue firing towards him. Panchito groaned, "Teenagers! I hate them _sooo_ much!" Terry smiled, "Why, I might ask?" Panchito sighed, "They ruined my life, taunted me with their slang and rap music, it was awful. Listening to them debate about useless bullshit, getting me involved, destroying other people's possessions without giving a damn, sort of like-" Terry cut him off, "You." Panchito stared at him, "Don't push it senor." He said, "I hate to break up the reason you suck speech but we got to go!" Scrooge said hopping on Cyril and picking up Rat. Panchito pulled out Serape and Jose got on, "Let's on rendezvous back at the house, and let's teach these vandalizing motherfuckers how a real recon team does it." Panchito said and he and Jose were off back towards Terry's house. Cyril bolted after and the Horseman hoisted Terry up behind him. "You might want to hold on to something," The Horseman said, "Why is that?" Terry asked. The Horseman laughed, "Ya!" He said and Terry found it out the hard way.

When they got back to the house, it was ransacked. The garage was occupied by teenagers and the entire house had been besieged. "This is not good." Terry said. "What do we do?" He asked. "I'll tell you what we do Terry," Terry turned around and saw Tina, armed with a butcher knife, "we take back the house, like William Wallace or something." Terry smiled, "Great, but how?" He said. The Horseman looked up at the second story window and saw that the paintball gun which was perched up there, was being used by one of the teenagers. He aimed towards them and began pelting them with paintballs all except for the Horseman and Basks, who were undead. So Horseman did something that he never really did, call a freaking army. He's a ghost, he can do that sort of thing. He extended his hand out, like Darth Vader, and closed it rapidly. In an instant, an army of the undead appeared, with trebuchets and bows and arrows. Next to the Horseman was another rider, by the name of Death. Yeah that's right, who else would it be. "Death, don't kill them," Horseman said, "just get them the fuck out of the house." Death nodded, "Fire!" He said. With that, a barrage of fire and arrows marched on the house, destroying the paintballs and causing the teenager who was manning the weapon to run in fear and out of the house, but he was stupid and ran out the front door. Panchito smiled, he aimed his pistol at him, "Run home kid," he said. "Yes Mr. Pistoles," the teenager said, running towards him. Panchito looked at him, very cautiously and pulled out his lasso, spun the rope around and threw it. The rope flew through the air and landed on the teenager. Panchito quickly pulled the lasso back towards him, bringing the teenager with him and spun him around. "How do you know my name?" He asked. "We were sent by the aunt." Panchito nodded, "Of course it's always the crazy one," he said sighing, "leave, tell no one what you see." He said. The teenager got out of the lasso, "But Mr. Pistoles I-" Panchito glared at him, "Now!" He yelled and the teenager bolted down the street.

Death's army had basically wiped out the main problem, but the teenagers were still in the garage. So cue in the recon team. Terry and Tina entered first, each carrying a knife, followed by Panchito, Jose, and Donald, then Rat and Cyril, and finally the Horseman and Basks. Slowly but surely they made their way towards the garage. Everything was in ruins, the tables were destroyed, the kitchen was a wreck, food was everywhere, garbage, it was awful. But the piece de resistance would be in the garage. Terry opened the door and saw staring at his face, a gigantic fathead of Rusty Lisch, the worst quarterback in NFL history, this guy literally made one touchdown in his entire career. Literally one. Terry just about lost it. He was a big sports fan, a BIG sports fan, and he was not about to let this now awesome garage become a shrine to a loser. His face became red, and steam was about to come out of his ears when he continued looking at the room, it was pelted with paintballs, red, green, yellow, blue, orange, and purple little dots of paint decorated every single piece of furniture in the room. There were three of them sitting on the pelted couch watching TV. Terry walked in, "Excuse me gentlemen," he said, "but get that fucking fathead of fucking Rusty Lisch off my wall!" He said threatening with his knife. The teenagers laughed. "Sure, whatever, we'll do whatever you say." They said sarcastically. Terry looked back towards Panchito, "Yo, Mexican time bomb." He said, "Si Senor Terry?" Panchito said making his way up. "Explode." Terry said. Panchito laughed, "You can count on me Senor," he said, motioning them all to back up, "If you'll excuse me." He said and closed the door.

Everyone else went back into the living room, everything, besides the destruction, was quiet. Death came in the house, "Horseman," he said, "you owe me now." The Horseman sighed, "Look can't we just be-" Death whistled, and his army reappeared in the living room. "What do you want?" The Horseman asked. Death looked around and saw Tina. He smiled, "Her, give me her." The Horseman sighed, Tina smiled, "Fuck it, okay." She said as she practically skipped over to Death and his army. Terry looked at Tina and smiled, "Bye Terry," Tina said with almost no feeling. Terry smiled even bigger, "Adios bitch." He said and she, Death, and his army disappeared. The next thing that happened was, well, the house sort of had a Poltergeist moment...


	14. They're Here Sort Of

**Chapter Five: They're Here...Sort Of**

As soon as Death left, the house began to shake a bit. "What's going on?" Scrooge asked, who was standing directly in the middle of the room. "I don't know, but it can't be good." The Horseman replied. Suddenly the television turned on. White space. Rat, who was staring in the direction of the TV, stared at the glowing box. "That voice," Rat said, walking towards the TV. "It's so beautiful, almost like singing angels." Jose watched as the Rat slowly made his way towards the television and lost all connection with reality. The Rat placed his paw on the television screen, the glass was cold, and Rat shuttered at the touch of it, but yet, he didn't care. He put the other hand on the exact opposite side of the screen and got on his knees. "They're heeeeerrrreee!" Jose's eyes got really big, "No, Senor Rat, I've seen this movie!" He said grabbing the poor creature by the waist trying to pull him away from the TV. "I'm sorry old boy," Rat said, "but I can't-look-away." Jose sighed, and looked at the wall. He smiled and reached for the cord that plugged the TV into the wall. The screen turned black, the white space was gone. Rat hung his head and breathed heavily, "Thanks old chap," he said removing his hands from the TV glass and backing up, "I lost it a bit there." Jose smiled, "Você é bem-vindo."

Just then Ichabod emerged from the hallway, he looked rather scared as if he saw a ghost, besides the Horseman that is. "What up with you lad?" Scrooge asked. "B-b-b-big, s-s-s-scary, d-d-demon." He said hair white and sticking up. "Demon?" The Horseman asked. Ichabod nodded, "D-d-demon." He said, shaking, looking like he was about to curl up into a ball and cry. "Where is this demon?" The Horseman asked. Ichabod pointed slowly down the hallway. "T-t-the closet." He said. The Horseman nodded as he carefully led Basks down the hallway.

The hallway was cold, unforgiving like the Arctic. The closet has a blue glowing mist coming out of it, it was very eerie, but the Horseman was necessary phased by anything, he's a ghost, he can do that. Opening the closet door revealed that yes, there was a demon, but he was small, like really small, smaller than a pencil. He was blue though, and rather scary looking, behind him was the inside of Diana Barrett's fridge. The Horseman laughed, "If only Bill Murray were here!" He said, he picked the little pathetic thing up and crushed him in-between his fingers. Just then out of nowhere, a gigantic demon, possibly the little one's brother appeared. He was big, massive, basically a dragon, and he was pissed. "Oh, I'm sorry was he yours?" The Horseman said with a 'not caring about you anymore because fucked with the wrong bull' type stare. The demon's nostrils were flaring, and he leaned his head out of the closet and opened his mouth. His breath was dreaded awful, smelled like rotting corpse, fish, and sour lemons. The Horseman waved his hand trying to fan out the smell, "Haven't you heard of breath mints man good lord!" He said. The demon closed his mouth and looked at him, "I don't really have a dental plan." The demon said, with a hung head. "No shit," The Horseman said, "I don't have life insurance," the Horseman laughed, making the demon laugh and smile. "So," the Horseman said, "do you mind leaving and all that business?" The demon nodded, "Sure, I don't even know why I showed up, this place is a dump." The demon said sticking his head out and looking up and down the hallway. "Wanna catch up some time?" The demon asked. "We'll play bridge," The Horseman said, "Thursday at seven?" He asked. "Sure, I'll bring the dip." The demon said laughing turning away. The Horseman laughed, "See you then." He said and closed the door.

The Horseman went back into the living room and realized that the chairs were stacked in a pyramid shape, and Terry was performing a séance. The Horseman turned to Scrooge, but he realized that he was writing on the wall in blood, Donald was on the floor, bleeding out, rocking back in forth grunting and carrying on like a crazy person. Cyril and Jose were nowhere to be seen but the front window was broken, so the Horseman could've guessed where they went. The only one would wasn't behaving like a crazed loon was Rat, who was crouching in fear underneath the table. "Sergeant!" He said, "Help, they're all possessed!" He said, "We need to get out of here!" He said, scrambling out from underneath the table. He looked up at the ceiling which had a blue spiraling vortex in the middle of it, "It all started when that thing appeared." Rat said. The Horseman nodded. "Seems we need help." He said, "Do you know of any supernatural specialists?" He asked, Rat shook his head, "No," he sighed, "Mr. Spielberg wouldn't like this, not at all." Screaming. Gunshots.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

"Vamos cobardes, terminemos con esto!" It was the rooster, shooting and blazing like no tomorrow. In the garage, the teenagers revealed themselves to be trained killers, trained for one purpose, to eliminate all threats towards 'the family'. They all had their weapons, paintball guns, ready and loaded, Panchito smiled, "Like I said, vamos cobardes!" He said. One by one, they surrounded the rooster, each pulling out a different weapon this time, TT-30's, a Russian pistol. Panchito looked each of them in the eye, "Let's go!" He said, pulling out both revolvers and doing his spinning. There were four of them now, one of the entered moments ago and already had his pistol out. The one who entered late, his name was Pedro, standing behind Panchito was Marcus, on Panchito's right was Keith, his left, Rocky. Rocky aimed his pistol first and fired, Panchito ducked and performed a sweep, knocking Rocky to the floor. The rooster, still crouching, aimed both pistols at him and shot simultaneously, making two shots sound like one. There was a loud echo, a ringing sound, that made Pedro cover his ears and drop his weapon to the ground. Nonetheless, Pedro pressed on and walked towards the rooster, who was now standing. "I'm impressed," Pedro said, "but not that impressed." He said as he swung his left arm towards the rooster who simply caught his hand. "Really, that's your first move?" He said with a smile. Marcus slowly came up behind him, but he didn't do it very stealth like, for he made a lot of noise with his gun. Panchito grabbed a hold of Pedro's arm and flipped him over like a rag doll right on top of Marcus. The rooster turned towards them and smiled, "Ha, now you see how a real man takes care of business yes!" He said with a confident laugh. Keith meanwhile, did the one thing Marcus couldn't do, be stealthy. He very slowly grabbed a hold of Panchito's lasso, but just as he grabbed a hold of the rope, the rooster looked down. "Do you want to keep that hand?" He asked. Keith nodded, "Yes Mr. Pistoles, I do very much." He said, removing his hand from the rope and standing up, "For what reason?" Panchito asked. "Pardon?" Keith said. "For what reason do you want to keep your hand?" Panchito repeated. Keith looked down and sighed. Panchito sighed, "It's alright," he said, walking towards him, shaking his hand, "I won't tell nobody, my lips are sealed." Keith smiled, "Really you'll do that Mr. Pistoles?" Panchito nodded, "Of course!," he laughed and pulled his free hand back and formed a fist, "just tell me why you're here eh?" Keith nodded, "We were sent to kill you actually, you posed a threat to Patricia, I mean, the Don." Panchito nodded, "That's what I thought." He said and threw a hard blow to Keith's head, knocking him unconscious.

Panchito let Keith drop to the floor, he looked around the room and saw that Marcus began to stand. "You're one tough sheriff." He said, rolling his shoulders and jumping up and down, loosening up for a punch. "But I'm going to make you bleed like the-" Panchito punched him in the face, with the speed of an MMA fighter. "Yeah right." The rooster said, giving Marcus a hard uppercut. Marcus staggered back a bit, and wiped the blood from his face and nose. "Come on, come on, come on!" He said begging the rooster to try again, this time he would be ready...to cry like a pansy. Panchito ran towards him, jumped in mid stride, and kicked Marcus down. Standing over him, Panchito spun his pistols, "I don't want to do this, I really don't, so just tell me, what do you want eh?" Marcus spat in the rooster's face. Panchito wiped off the saliva and hit Marcus in the head with the butt of his right pistol, knocking him out cold. He sheathed the weapons and walked to the center of the room.

Everything was quiet, not a sound, Panchito looked around and saw the bodies of Rocky, Keith, Marcus, and Pedro, he felt sorry for what he did, but in truth they did try to kill him and furthermore they destroyed his friend's house. "Well, that takes care of-" A motion of a hand, a twitch of an eye, all at once, all four of them stood up, and pointed their pistols at him, loaded, and had their fingers on the trigger. Panchito looked around the room again, and saw that he was, once again surrounded. "Alright," he said, "if you must, but first let me do one final act if you don't mind." He said as he threw his pistols up in the air, and caught them, aiming each one at an assailant at their heads. "Adios hombres." The rooster said and shot Marcus and Keith. Pedro and Rocky fired their pistols towards the rooster, who moved left then right, avoiding both bullets. He shot Rocky in the head, which exploded into bits and pieces. Pedro grabbed Panchito's other pistol from his hand, the rooster sighed, "You're going to regret that." He said. "Oh yeah," Pedro said, "how so?" Panchito smiled as he put his right foot forward, left foot back. He then lifted the ball of his right and turned his whole body sideways. He pivoted his right, his back was facing Pedro, who didn't move, he was watching, observing, and curious. Panchito looked back over his shoulder, then with all his weight on his right leg, jumped, he then launched his left straight back underneath himself, protecting the groin area, and kicked Pedro hard in the face. The jumping spinning back kick. The rooster landed, and punched the killer hard in the face. Pedro dropped the pistol, Panchito caught and shot in one fluid motion, he didn't even move. Pedro fell down to his knees, his face bleeding and a bullet inside him submitted and was dead. Panchito spun his pistols back in his sheath.

Back in the living room, things only got worse, as Scrooge began roasting Donald in the fireplace, speaking gibberish and Jose was back in the house, shaking off whatever took over him. " Santo fuma! O que está acontecendo aqui!" The parrot exclaimed looking at the Horseman who was looking up at the blue portal thinking of a way to stop it. "Jose," the Horseman said, "you enjoy flying?" Jose nodded, "Si senor, I go on plane trips all the time." The Horseman shook his head, "I meant natural flying."

"Oh, um, it's been a while since I've actually flown, why?" Jose asked walking towards the Horseman. "Jose," the Rat said, "you need to save me." The Horseman and Jose looked at the Rat with confusion. Rat didn't have time to answer because he de-materialized like a Willy Wonka chocolate bar going through the Wonka Vision machine and Rat's particles were sucked into the TV. Just then, six large men wearing all black, and black cowls, came in with guns. "Where is Pistoles!" The first one to enter said, who was the leader, whose name was Robert. Panchito very timely came in through the door. "Right here you palooka," he said and shot him. The other five came rushing towards him, before Jose or the Horseman could assist him, three of the remaining five were already on the ground, one unconscious, two dead. Reason, the beautiful wonderful 360 kick, also known as the tornado kick. As the leader rushed forward, Panchito got back into side stance, rotated the ball of his front foot, pivoted, put his leg up at exactly forty-five degrees with his leg also coming out at forty five degrees, he switched making the other leg parallel to the ground, he kicked, driving the leg more upward, forcing Robert's head back unconscious. The other two came up from his sides. From his left Panchito did the classic crane kick and the right he just quickly turned and shot him. The other two Jose and the Horseman took care of, since the others were busy having a paranormal moment. "Who sent you?" The Horseman said, picking the one of them up by the collar. "Patricia." He said. "Why?" The Horseman asked. "Because he went against the family, you don't go against the family!" The henchmen said. "Don't give me that Godfather shit," Jose said, roughing the other guy up, "why are you here!" He said, getting just as mad and wishing that he could kick the lights out of him but couldn't. "We're here to kill you, you made a mistake by crashing that party. Everyone there was supposed to die, the kid was bait, he was part of this too you see, he's actually twenty-six, and his goal was to get rid of Pistoles here, Mr. Zachary works for Jesse Summers." Jose nodded, "So, Summers wants Panchito dead?" Both henchmen nodded. "Go," Jose said, "and tell them that they messed with the wrong family." Jose let the henchman go and when he was exiting with his companion, the Horseman stopped them, "Try and kill the rooster again," he said, "I won't be merciful." The henchmen nodded and bolted down the street.

"Now," Panchito said, looking around, seeing that everyone was participating in some sort of weird dithyramb. "What's up?" He asked. Jose turned towards his friend, "Where did you learn to do that?" He asked. Panchito nodded, "I took self-defense classes for about ten years on weekends." Jose shook his head, confused, "Where were I and how did I not know?" Panchito laughed, "Remember all those 'fishing trips'?" The rooster said. Jose nodded, remembering a time when it seemed that all Panchito would do was 'fish'. "But why?" The parrot asked. The rooster shrugged his shoulders, "Just something to do." He said. "Now, what's up with nuestros amigos?"

"Well," Rat answered from the recesses of the TV, "they've lost their marbles, we don't really know what to do to be honest, now get me out of here!" He said. Panchito walked over to Scrooge, put his aside and pulled Donald out from the fireplace. Panchito laughed as he looked at his friend, whose white feathers were now brown, some of them even peeled off. "Donal'" Panchito said, "you alright mi amigo?" He asked. Donald nodded, "Yeah, I'm alright, thanks for asking, who are you?" He said. Panchito slapped him in the face. "Ow!" Donald said, "geez why'd you do that for?" He said. "You don't remember me?" Panchito said, halfway concerned. "Never seen you before in my life. Name's Donald." The duck extended his hand. Panchito shook it, smiled, put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. "Oh, The Three Caballeros, The Three Caballeros, they say we are birds of a feather!" Panchito sang. "Come on Donal' you know the words yes?" The rooster asked with a somewhat pleading smile, Donald hummed the tune but didn't sing anything. "That's it!" Panchito said with a smile, "Now, who am I?" Donald looked at him, "Um, a crazy Mexican rooster who sings terribly out of key? I don't know." The duck said shrugging his shoulders. Panchito sighed and hung his head, "Jose!" He said, yelling assertively, "do your umbrella thing." Jose nodded and pulled out his black umbrella from his sleeve and played it as a flute, the same tune he introduced Donald to back in Brazil. Donald's behind moved to the rhythm of the samba but other than that he didn't have a revelation. When Jose was finished, he thought of one other solution. Daisy's letter. He walked over and handed it to him, "Here," Jose said, "it's your girlfriend." Donald took the letter and opened it, "Thanks." He said and read the letter:

_ Dear Donald, _

_ I'm going to New York City to open my winter fashion line up. You said you wanted to make our relationship better, so this is your last chance. You never support me in anything, and I really need this for my career and my life and hopefully our lives, but only if you can make it on time. Be at Times Square during Macy's I'll see you there. _

_ Love, for the last time maybe,_

_ Daisy_

_P.S. - Don't bring that stupid, fat, annoying, son of a bitch rooster friend of yours, if I see him, I'm going to ring his neck out (it was the war, he was there, you weren't, he left me- don't talk to him about it either, he'll lie and say it was my fault- which is wasn't) _

Donald's eyes twitched as he threw the letter down on the floor. "Panchito," he said, regaining his memory, "we need to talk."

"Sure about what?" The rooster asked.

"Not now," Donald said, "first we need to help these guys." He looked up at the portal to the room, "Shit." he said with a sigh. "Hold on, I can fix this." He walked down the hall and into Tina's room. Funny enough, Steven Spielberg was sitting on the bed, typing away on his computer. "Oh, hey Donald," he said with a smile, "like it so far?" Donald shook his head, "Get out!" He said. Spielberg nodded, "Fine just let me do this once last scene and...done." He closed his laptop and walked out of the room. "Have fun." He said with a smile, whistling a made up tune. Donald looked back towards him and followed him, "What did you write!" He called. "The ending you miserable duck. The ending." With that Spielberg ran towards the door and out onto the street. Donald ran after him and tackled him. "What the hell happens!" He screamed, punching Steven in the face. Spielberg laughed, "The end my friend, _the end_." Donald looked back at the house, and then back at Spielberg, "You're a sick man." Steven smiled, "You don't like the story, so I changed the ending for you, don't worry, you'll survive...at least." Donald turned back towards the house and ran as fast as he could. He was just about to make it to the front door when the house exploded into a large mushroom cloud that reached up into the sky, thousands of feet into the air, past planes, clouds, and into the far reaches of space. Donald, who escaped the explosion with minor scrapes, looked back to Steven Spielberg, "What happened to you?" He asked, "You used to be great." Spielberg stood and shrugged his shoulders, "I became real." He said. Donald nodded, "Yeah, a real piece of shit." Donald said as he stared back at the mushroom cloud as tears rolled down his face.


	15. So the Mafia is Plotting to Kill You

**Chapter Six: So You Survived The Mafia's Plot to Kill You**

**Please review! I want your input. I want this to be your story too! **

**I love hearing people's ideas, so please don't be afraid to share, I'll use them somehow if I think they're good enough. **

**Thanks for the support guys, please enjoy and review! **

**High Teen: Gangster Violence**

The smoke cleared, and Donald sat in the middle of the cul-de-sac alone, and crying his eyes out. All of his friends were dead. The world ended for him, everyone that he was close to was gone, into the next life, and his girlfriend was breaking up with him. The world fell apart in approximately three seconds and he had plenty of time to tell them about it. He was so caught up in trying to figure out what Spielberg was plotting that he forgot everything else. The duck sighed and sighed again, deep in sadness, as he laid down in the street and fell asleep.

"Donal'!" Panchito screamed. The rooster was trying his best to wake his friend up. " Despierta!" The rooster picked up the duck and shook him awake, "Donal' answer me!" He said. "W-w-what, Panchito what are you are doing?" Donald asked opening his eyes from his sleep. When he finally woke up from his daze Donald immediately hugged his friend, who immediately hugged back, "You're alive!" Donald said, crying. Panchito nodded, "Si Senor! But I think I'm the only one who made it out." He said letting his friend go. "Jose, Scrooge, Terry, Rat, Horseman?" Donald asked. Panchito took off his sombrero and hung his head, "Por desgracia, están en un lugar mejor ahora mi amigo." Donald didn't need a translator to understand what that meant. He just nodded and cried his eyes out.

When morning came, Panchito and Donald looked through the rubble of the house. They managed to salvage a few things, a few books, a pot, a lamp, but nothing they really cared about. They didn't find Terry, or Rat, or Scrooge, or Horseman in the mess. The truth was they were gone and there was nothing they could do about it. As the sun rose up and lit the sky, Cyril and Ichabod came slowly down the road, they were singing and smiling as if nothing had happened, so when they saw the sad birds they became confused. "What's wrong with you?" Cyril asked. "Yeah, what's up as, they say?" Ichabod added. "Oh nothing," Panchito said with a glare, "it's just all of our friends are dead you asshole, where were you eh?" Ichabod smiled, "I was having the time of my life, what were you doing?" Panchito was about to get into side stance and give Ichabod a beating but Donald stood in his way, "Panchito, let it go, he's not worth it." The rooster spat on Ichabod's shoes. Cyril looked at the house remains and walked over to them, inspecting every last detail, "Oh my," he said very solemnly, "it seems that they've gone up huh?" The horse said. The rooster and the duck nodded slowly. "Si Senor Cyril," Panchito said, "it'll be alright though," he said, lying to himself. He looked at me. Pause story button...

"How the hell can you kill off mi amigos like that eh?" Panchito said.

Relax will you, it's all part of a plan.

"Really? What is it?" He asked.

None of your business, now do you job or you don't get paid.

"You're not paying me Senor...what the hell is Nothing Really Specific?" Panchito asked.

It's a pen name! Jose asked about that earlier. Geez, note to self, breaking the fourth wall leads to questions about me which equals bad.

"Si, because you my fine feathered friend are not interesting at all. Oh," he said looking at the profile page, "I see you have me as your profile picture. I'm flattered." He smiled, "¡ Gracias a señor por hacer eso, significa mucho!" The rooster cried with a bow.

You're welcome, now go back to being sad and crying your eyes out please.

"Ahora mismo señor!" Panchito replied. Story resumed...

"It'll be alright though," Panchito said, "you'll see." He began to cry, weeping like Niagara Falls. "Who am I kidding they're all dead!" He cried, wept, wailed, and every other synonym for crying because the author personally can't think of any more. "There, there, Mr. Pistoles, I'm sure they'll turn up." Cyril said. "Quite right," Ichabod said, "we'll just have to keep digging is all." Panchito nodded, "You're right, let's do it."

So the excavation began, and as they removed the shingles, the pieces of the wall, they pulled out Terry and Rat, who were both unconscious. Jose, Scrooge, and the Horseman were still missing. They were never found, but, the Horseman is a ghost. So guess what happened. Yeah turns out, The Horseman is a pretty nice guy when it comes to saving people's lives.

He appeared weather beaten and tired, Scrooge was on behind him on Basks back, and Jose was in Basks' mouth. Panchito walked over and grabbed Jose, "Jose! Jose!" He slapped him gently in the face. "Come on, wake up, don't die on me not like this, not like this!" He was cradling him like a newborn babe, crying and smothering him. "I'm afraid the parrot is bleeding demised, it's passed on, this parrot is no more, it has ceased to be, it's expired and gone to meet its maker." Panchito looked up at the Horseman, "Oh be quite with your Monty Python references this is on time to joke!" He said sobbing loud and hard. Scrooge who was stirring got off Basks back and nodded, "Aye lad, it seems that our Brazilian is no more." Panchito shook his head, refusing to believe it, he looked at me.

"I thought you said he'd live!" He cried.

I didn't _say_ anything.

"That's it you're out of the will." Panchito said, pretending to slap me, "I hope you felt that pain."

I didn't.

"You're a monster you know that!" He had the urge to grab his pistols and shoot me but if he did that then there would be no point in there being text here so he didn't, although he did try to. "Come, on!" Panchito said, forcing his hand to move down towards his pistols, "I'm going to kill you ever so slowly now." He said. Hmm...okay, the rooster began to choke to d- "Vale, vale, conseguirlo, deje que acuña me!" Panchito cried, having difficulty breathing. He took a deep breath, "Gracias, Espero que algo bueno tiene bajo la manga porque esto es deprimente."

Okay Panchito, just hold on to your horses okay. Panchito shrugged his shoulders and motioned Cyril to come over. He did and the rooster grabbed onto his reins with his left hand and grabbed Basks reins with his right. He looked at both horses and shrugged his shoulders, "Well, this accomplishes absolutely nothing." Panchito said.

Panchito.

The rooster looked up at the sky, he apparently thought I was dead for some reason.

"Si, oh voice of God who annoys me?"

Two things, shut up, geez you're getting on my nerves, and second, hold your horses is a figure of speech.

"It is?"

Yes!

"Oh!," the rooster said, still holding on to both horses reins. Basks whinnied and pulled his head, telling Panchito to let go. "Alright, sorry amigo." Basks just beat the ground with his hoof, forgetting all about it. "This wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for Steven Spielberg." Donald said. Everyone looked at him, "Steven Spielberg, you mean the Steven Spielberg?" Panchito asked. Donald nodded, "He was in the back room, writing a screenplay or something, apparently it was ours cause he said that he was writing the ending, and then the house exploded." Donald said. Panchito sighed, "Amigo," he said, "try and get Terry and the Rat up, I'm going to settle this." He said whistling for Serape. "What are you going to do?" Donald said. Panchito got on his transport, "If I'm not back by sundown, you'll know what happened to me." Donald looked his friend confused, "No I won't, are you saying that I might not ever see you again?" The duck asked. Panchito nodded, "I hope that doesn't happen amigo." Donald smiled, "Kill that bastard." He said. Panchito waved and was off to find Steven Spielberg.

Just as Panchito left, Terry and Rat woke up, "Look lads, they've awakened!" Scrooge said with excitement. "W-what?" Terry said, sitting up, "What happened?"

"The house exploded." Scrooge said. "Oh, yeah." Terry said with a nod. "The house exploded." He stood up, "Where's the rooster?" He asked, "I'm going to kill him." Donald looked confused, "Why?" He said. Terry sighed, "Do I really need a reason." Rat sat up, "Well that would nice." He said. Terry nodded, smiled, and looked at his watch. It was 6:30, "Oh shit," Terry said, "I'm late for my interview." He looked behind him and saw that his car was covered with debris and practically useless. Terry looked at the Horseman. "Can I-"

"Hop on." The Horseman said. "Thanks Sergeant." Terry said. "Don't mention it." The Horseman replied as Basks galloped down the street and the three of them disappeared into the morning light.

Panchito scanned the streets, his eyes darted back and forth, looking for a man with a balding head, black attire, and carrying a computer bag. Steven Spielberg was running down the street, computer in hand when a creepy black van pulled up to him. Spielberg got into the van which sped off. The rooster smiled, "So, Spielberg is part of the mafia eh?" He said as he flew down towards the street level, and told Serape to silently follow the van.

The van stopped at a shabby old house a few blocks away. It was plain white with a clichéd white fence around it. The door was red. The topiaries were perfect. The roof, shutters, and columns that supported the porch overhang were painted blue. Very _American Beauty_ type. Panchito stopped three houses down and crouched down in the bushes like a black ops agent. Spielberg entered the house, he looked like he was hiding something because he held his laptop close to his body and was quickly making his way to the door. He knocked three times. The door opened.

When the door closed, the van drove off, when the van was no longer in view, Panchito jumped out of the bushes, barrel rolled commando style onto the lawn and walked up to the door, grabbing his left pistol. He knocked on the door three times. The door opened, a burlap sack quickly covered his face and he felt a sharp pain in his right temple.

Panchito awoke to a headache. His head was throbbing, his heart was racing, his mind was going in circles trying to piece everything together. Voices. Strange ones, Italians. The rooster opened his eyes and saw that a burlap sack which smelt of rotten potatoes, was over his head. Through the stitching he could see six seated men and one in the shadow of the overhead light at the end of a long white table. On the table were papers, files, that each man had in front of him. The rooster also noticed that his sombrero was gone. To his left, was the man who bonked him on the head, Giacomino Bruno, a fence for the DeLuca family, a powerful Italian syndicate whose main business was piracy of media. The patriarch of the family was in the shadow. He was short, wore a mustard stained black suit, and smoked a big cigar. Panchito saw this and said, "Can someone be a pal and remove this potato smelling bag off my cabeza?" Giacomino removed the bag. The light blinded the rooster for several seconds. He put his hand over his brow, shielding his eyes for a moment, "You guys don't know the meaning of the word indivuality don't you?" He said, observing that everyone single person in the room except for the patriarch and himself had on the same exact ugly sweater. It was itchy, made of wool, red and green patterns adorned it. "It's stylish Mr. Pistoles." The patriarch said. "Really?" The rooster said leaning over and laughing exasperatingly, "Nunca en mi vida he visto a un grupo de gente vestida de un ridículo y estúpido." The rooster stood on the table and walked across it, ducking when he reached the overhead light. "¿Qué es esto de la Elf Ernie la reunificación de la familia. Esto es patético, una simple vergüenza a todos villanos en todas partes!" Panchito leaned down towards the patriarch's face, "Marlon Brando es el laminado en su tumba. El pobre hombre, que asco!" He paused, and smiled, "In other words," the rooster said, "you're sweaters are fucking ugly." He spat in the patriarch's face and grabbed his dress shirt collar. "Where is Spielberg?" The patriarch's eyes darted around, "He's not here." He said. Panchito smiled and lifted him up out of his chair, revealing him to be Zach. Panchito's mouth dropped. "You're a, um, what's the polite way to say it." Zach smiled, "There really isn't a polite way to say little person Panchito so just say little person." Panchito nodded, and let Zach go. "What the hell is going on?" He asked. Zach smiled, "Let me clear up a few things Panchito." He said, looking at two of his associates who were closest to him, they both stood up and each grabbed one of Panchito's arms, slowly dragging him back to his seat. "We're part of a syndicate, dedicated to controlling the band feeds on the Internet. YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, everything, and well, you're," he laughed, "ex-boss was a major contributor to my little organization." Jesse walked into the room from a back door, "It's true Mr. Pistoles," he said, "the CEO bit was a day job." Panchito nodded, "So you're a _bad_ guy?" Jesse nodded, "Yeah," he said taking a seat next to the rooster, "I'm the bad guy." Panchito looked into Jesse's eyes, "¿Por qué mintió a mi señor, a nosotros, nos confía en ti! Yo confiaba en usted!" The rooster shouted, trying to pull away from the two brute's strength. "Panchito, calm down, I had to do it, you gave me the perfect revenge after our little incident. You see, that house was full of merchandise, merchandise that I was in charge of 'distributing', when that was destroyed, I hired Mr. Spielberg to write your script. When it got to a Poltergeist reference, he'd kill you off. Perfect scapegoat. Kill all of you, get my money, no more threats. Everything comes full circle, everybody wins," he laughed, "except for you." Panchito spat in his face, "¡Vete al diablo!" He shouted. Jesse nodded as he stood and pulled out a pistol from his pocket. "Adios Senor Pistoles." He said, aiming the pistol at Panchito's head and pulled the trigger. Panchito flinched.

_Click_.

"What the hell?" Jesse said. The pistol misfired. Panchito smiled, "Oh, did Marvin's ka-boom not work?" He said with laugh. "Shut up Pistoles," Jesse said, he looked at the two henchmen who held Panchito firm, "You, let him go, he won't do anything, help me out here." The two nodded and left the rooster alone. Panchito smiled as he stood on his chair and performed a 360 kick, knocking both the henchmen to the floor. He hopped down from the chair and quickly took the pistol from Jesse's hands and shot him. "Oh look," Panchito said, "one bullet left." He laughed, "Gracias Senor Fudd!" He shouted as Jesse fell on the floor and Panchito put the pistol in his inside shirt pocket. He could always use the spare.

Zach stood up and walked towards the rooster, all eyes were on him, he did the golf clap. 'Very good Mr. Pistoles, very good indeed." He said. "Have you considered the mafia business?" Panchito smiled, "Gracias por el elogio pero a diferencia de usted, realmente tengo moralejas." Zach sighed, and turned to Benedetto, who was sitting nearest him. "Benedetto, translate!" Benedetto nodded, "¿Puede por favor repetir esto?" Panchito nodded, "Lo que sir, gracias por el elogio pero a diferencia de usted, realmente tengo moralejas." Benedetto nodded, "Gracias senor." Panchito smiled, " Siete benvenuti." He said with a bow. Benedetto smiled, "You speak Italian too?"

" Un poco sí." Panchito replied, shaking his left hand in the 'so-so' motion.

"For the love of Mary Benedetto what did he say!" Zach screamed. "Oh yes, sorry Don, he said, 'thanks for the compliment but unlike you I actually have morals.'" Zach nodded and turned towards the rooster, "Is this true?" He said, head turning redder than the rooster was. Panchito smiled, "Do I crow in the morning?" He said. "Yes." Zach answered. Panchito laughed, "Then you don't know me very well, I never crow, never have never will, I think it's-" Zach pulled out a gun, as well as everyone else. "Crow rooster, if you want to live." He said smiling. Panchito smiled, "Eh, no, where's Mr. Spielberg?" Zach smiled, "He's not here, now, if you want live to see him, then crow." Panchito looked around the room and saw that there were too many of them and not enough of him to fight, so he complied. Crowing and walking around like an idiot, Panchito very authentically and correctly portrayed his species to the letter. He slowly made his way to door as he was in the middle of this show, but nobody cared to notice that is until he sprinted out the door.

Panchito ran out the door and across the lawn towards the back of the house. Benedetto and Giacomino ran after them holding the same model of revolver Panchito had, Colt Python .375 Magnum's. Bullets fired one after the other, but Benedetto and Giacomino had terrible aim. The rooster ran to the back of the house, only to realize to his dismay that there was a fence and a shed but it was locked. Looking around like a squirrel who doesn't know which way to run, Panchito just dropped to the ground and covered his head. "Pistoles!" Panchito lifted up his head and saw that Spielberg was in the shed. "Over here quick!" The rooster quickly ran towards the shed door, entered, and closed it just as the two Italians entered the backyard.

"There's no sign of him!" Benedetto said. "Keep looking, he might be at one of the neighbors, I'll go check." Giacomino said, walking out of the backyard. When he was gone, Benedetto did one quick walk around, not bothering to check the shed, since it was small and full of stuff, and walked back inside to report the news.

Panchito opened the door, gasping and breathing for air, "Oh my lord," he said, fanning the air, "what did you eat?" He asked Steven who just calmly walked out, "Mexican food just tears me up." Panchito nodded, "Thanks for the save," he said, walking over to him as he were about to shake his hand but instead of doing that, he twisted Steven's arm and put him into a submission hold. "Ow, hey, hey watch it, that's my Oscar holding hand!" Steven cried. Panchito smiled, "Fuck you, I thought Indiana Jones 4 was ridiculously stupid what the hell were you thinking?" Steven flinched from the pain, "I was just trying to make money!" He screamed. Panchito nodded, "Not everything has to be in 3D either, Jurassic Park was perfectly fine without it." Steven nodded, "What do you want?" He asked. "The script for Summers, where is it?" Panchito said. "It's on my computer, why?" Spielberg said. "Fix the ending, put everything back the way it was, no dying, no house exploding, no mafia, everything." He said. "Are you kidding?" Spielberg said, "This is my comeback!" Panchito nodded, broke Spielberg's arm and let him go. "My arm, you broke my arm!" He screamed. "Alright, I'll fix it, I'll fix everything, right from the beginning." Panchito nodded, "Good, I don't want have to do this again." Spielberg nodded, "Me neither." He said as he walked away. Panchito straightened out his shirt, spat on the ground, and walked away.

Giacomino came back into the backyard, his shirt was covered with sweat and he was out of breath. He looked over and saw Panchito, standing there with a smile on his face. "You're, you're, you're..." Giacomino said between breaths, trying to catch it. "Come on, sound it out, use your words." Panchito said, with a slight laugh. "You're dead." Giacomino said, raising the pistol. Panchito held up his arms as if surrendering, "Okay Mr. Bruno, you win," he said with a smile, "just go easy on my wrists, eh? They're fragile." Giacomino smiled and laughed. He was a large, brawny fellow, three times larger than Panchito, and probably outweighed him by at least one hundred and seventy pounds. This guy had almost no fat, it was all lean muscle, and the rooster was implicitly scared.

"I am not implicitly scared!" Panchito said looking at me, "Just momentarily terrified." He said.

Remember, defeat is only momentary.

"Gracias por las palabras de aliento amigo." Panchito said, getting into side stance. When Giacomino was close enough Panchito attempted to perform a jumping side kick but Bruno was apparently trained because he caught Panchito's kicking foot in mid air. "Not so tough now are you?" Giacomino said. Panchito pulled out his right pistol, but Giacomino was not phased. "You think a gun will scare me enough to let you go? That's rich!" He said as he punched Panchito hard in the stomach, causing him to stagger and fall into the dirt. Giacomino laughed, kicking the rooster down when he tried to get up. "You think you can beat me? You think you can mess with me?" Giacomino leaned down and stared in Panchito's face, which was bleeding slightly and looking war beaten. "There comes a time when you realize when you're beaten Mr. Pistoles, I bet you've won every single fight you've ever fought right?" Panchito spat blood onto the ground and wiped off his face, "Not every single one." He said, standing up. "Just one." Giacomino laughed and stood back up, "You've won only one fight!" he exclaimed. Panchito smiled, "I'm still fighting it you asshole!" He said, crane kicking Giacomino to the ground. Giacomino looked up at the rooster, who held out both of his pistols, one aimed at the groin, the other aimed at his head. "Which fight is that Pistoles?" He asked. Panchito smiled deviously, like an assassin who found his target, just waiting patiently for the right moment to kill. He walked over towards Giacomino and leaned down towards his face. He then whispered softly, "The one that ends with people like you at the end of my barrels." He stood back up. Giacomino laughed, "Go on and shoot me Pistoles, but it'll be your mistake, my family will come after you, hunt you down, and be sure to see you hanged." Panchito nodded, hearing that story a million times. "Your family doesn't give a fuck about you Giacomino." He said, loaded his pistols. "You don't know that!" The Italian said. The rooster nodded, "No you see, I do, because if they did, then they would stop me," he aimed his pistols at the same place he did before, "I want you to go back inside and bring me Summers, he tried to kill my friends, my family, and I'm going to show him what my surname really means. He laughed at my face, time for him to see the pistol barrels." Giacomino nodded and stood up, "I hope you brought roses." He said and entered the house.

When it was quiet again, Panchito decided to get the hell out of there. He didn't want to be Zach and his Band of Merry Men's dinner, and although he had a settle to score with Jesse Summers, his former employer, he decided to live to fight another day. So he bolted up the fence, escaping several bars from screaming woman via a small high window on large walls saw to that. He jumped and landed on all fours, barrel rolled and stood up. He straightened his shirt out again, grabbing the tail ends, and pulling out the wrinkles like he was a forgotten T-Bird from _Grease_. Giacomino and Jesse Summers came out of the house, Panchito turned around and faced them. "See you later you fuckers!" He said, pointing and yelling, carrying on like a football player who's getting a technicality for over celebration but doesn't give a shit. He's on cloud nine, let him stay there if he wants to. It even got to the point where Panchito was doing the worm, and singing Michael Jackson's "Bad" and dancing just like him. Just as he got to the chorus, Giacomino pulled out a gun. "That's enough Mr. Pistoles," Jesse said, "but this isn't 1987." Panchito nodded, "Si, but can you handle," he pulled out his pistols, "the fire!" He shot Jesse in the chest, four times. "That was for my friends bitch!" He said, his hood gangster side showing. He even stepped forward and did a hand motion. Giacomino ran towards the house, Panchito shot him in the leg. "Who's your daddy?" He said. Giacomino spat on the ground, "Fuck you!" He said. Panchito backed up and cleared the fence. Without losing momentum, the rooster ran towards the Italian and did a baseball slide, holding both pistols directly on Giacomino's cheeks. "Who's," he cocked the left pistol, "your," he cocked the right, "daddy?" He said with a smile. "You are." Giacomino said. "I like you senor, I don't want to kill you, I'll tell you what, you help me get those bozos off my back, I'll let you come with me." The rooster said. Giacomino smiled, "Why would I ever want to go with you?" The rooster smiled, "Because," he said, "you won't ever face jail, I'm a rooster, a fucking cartoon rooster at that, I'm untouchable! But these guys? They're catchable, manipulative, and sneaky devils. I always keep me word." Giacomino smiled, "How do I know I can trust you?" He said. "They haven't given me a reason to distrust them, so why should I trust you?" He asked. Just then Zachary come outside, he looked at Jesse Summers' body. "Giacomino," he said, "come here." Giacomino stood up and walked over to the tiny man who kicked him in the groin. "Don't you ever make this mistake again! Do you hear me! Never again!" He kicked him again and again. Giacomino was bleeding in pain, and just as Panchito was about to intervene, Giacomino grabbed Zachary, pinned him to the ground, and raised his arm to punch his teeth out. "So," Zachary said, "this is how it's going to be huh? You're going to kill me, me, the man who saved your ass from the gutter. The man who kill- saved you from your parents." Zachary said hoping that Giacomino wouldn't catch the slip up. "What did you say?" The Italian asked. "I said the man who save you from your parents." Zach answered. Giacomino shook his head, "You said killed, are you telling me that you killed my parents!" He punched Zachary dead in the face, "Why'd you do it?" He screamed. Zachary laughed, "Why do I kill most people Giacomino? They got in the way, I couldn't bear to kill you so I took you in, raised you to be a killing machine." Giacomino nodded, "Yeah, guess what." He said standing up and grabbing Zachary by the collar lifting up four feet off the ground. "karma's a bitch isn't it?" He head butted Zachary into submission and motioned for one of Panchito's guns. Once in hand, Giacomino fired, shooting Zach in the head and tossed the gun back to the rooster. "I don't like you Pistoles, but you have my respect." He said, "I'll make sure to add you and your associates on the 'do not kill list'. Now," Giacomino said, "I'll take care of these guys, you just go home, your life just got a hell of a lot easier. If you need anything, call, but just so we're clear, I don't like you." Panchito nodded, "Muchos gracias senor," he said with a bow and walked down the sidewalk. Giacomino smiled, "The only guy I knew who could survive a mafia's plot to kill him." He laughed and entered the house.

Terry walked into Google Headquarters, head held high and resume in hand. He was on top of the world. He walked up to the secretary's desk and smiled. "Hello I'm here to see a Mr. Ross." The secretary didn't look at him, she just kept on filing her papers, bobbing her head to music that was channeling through her large studio headphones. "Ma'am!" Terry said, banging on the desk. "I'm here for the interview!" He shouted. She did nothing but dance in her chair, completely oblivious to him. "For the love of God lady!" He screamed. Just then the intercom came on, "Mr. Dicks, wow you have a very unfortunate name, please come into my office." Terry sighed and walked to the nearest door.

The name on the door said Stormy Harmon in big bold letters. Terry took a deep breath and opened the door. The room was colorful, let's just say that. The wall on the left of the door was neon yellow. The one on the right of it was neon green. The floor was painted neon blue and the ceiling was neon pink. To make matters worse, the desk was metallic gray. The chairs, behind the desk and in front of it were metallic red. The bookshelves that were behind the desk and on the walls were painted with a white base but splatter painted blue and red. The shades on the window was a blast from the past, 1976, and finally, there sat Stormy, who was dressed like John Travolta from Saturday Night Fever. Even a Bee Gees record was playing...on a turntable. Terry shook his head and sighed. "Welcome to my office!" Stormy said. "Wait, why are you leaving?" He said, noticing that Terry turned around and shut the door. He never walked into Google HQ ever again.


	16. Phone Calls From Jail- Part I

**Panchito**

**_"3 Good Friends (Or The Three Caballeros 2)"_**

This chapter is besides being very short, the beginning of a story called _"3 Good Friends"_ which is what I think the sequel to _The Three Caballeros (1945) _should be. I do not own any Disney characters. Those belong to The Walt Disney Company and its respected affiliates.

Please review! :)

**Chapter One: Phone Calls from Jail- Part I**

Donald read the letter over and over again, his eyes darting over the words, _"Love, for the last time."_ Jose pulled out a box of tissues and handed it to Donald. "Thank You." He said, blowing his nose. "Você é bem-vindo." Jose answered. Rat brushed the dust and fill from the dry wall off himself, "Well look at this mess," he said, "It'll take a miracle to get this place in ship shape." Cyril nodded, "You know what we need?" He said, "A holiday, I'm surprised that you two have stuck around this long with the nut you're living with." The horse said looking at Jose and Donald. "Panchito is our friend," Jose said, "and he's going through a rough time right now, we're here to keep him sane." Cyril nodded, "Oh noble cause right there, but eh, do yourselves a favor, do him a favor, and go on vacation." He said. "Well, I can't," Donald said, "I have to sort things out with Daisy, I don't want to lose her." The duck said. "Then I'm coming with you senor." Jose said putting his arm around his friend. "I appreciate the concern Jose, really, but I have to do this on my own." Donald said. Jose nodded, "I understand completely, go and have your own adventure!" He said, "Hey just be back in time for Thanksgiving, it wouldn't be the same without you." Jose said with a smile. Donald rubbed his stomach in the thought of it, roasted ham, smoked sausage, mashed potatoes, turkey with brown gray, the cranberry sauce, Jose always brought a different Portuguese dish, last year it was Paella, and the year before that it was Chicken with Piri-Piri sauce. It was of course delicious. Donald supplied the turkey and ham, while Panchito got the sides and deserts, which he too would change every year, last year it was flan, not Donald's favorite but it was still pretty good. The duck pulled out of the daydream of Thanksgiving dinner when he realized that he was on the ground, making an air angle. Jose laughed, "Alright daydreamer," he said pulling Donald up and embracing him, "go get your girlfriend back. I lost mine, don't make the same mistake I did." Donald nodded as Jose let go of him, "I'll let you know when I get to New York." He said walking down the street. Jose waved to him, and Donald waved back, "Adios amigo, mantenha-se seguro!" He shouted as Donald turned the corner and headed towards the bus stop. The parrot sighed, "Para o bem de todos nós."

Panchito walked up the sidewalk just as the bus passed him. He looked and saw Donald in the back, the window seat. "Donal'?" He said looking in the duck's direction. He whistled for Serape, jumped on, and followed the bus. He caught up to the bus got up next to Donald and motioned for him to open the window. Panchito climbed in. When he was all settled next to his friend he asked his questions. "Where are you going?" Donald looked at him. "I'm saving my relationship with Daisy." Panchito nodded, "Let me go with you, come on, it'll be an adventure!" Donald smiled, "No, I need to do this on my own but thanks for the concern." Panchito nodded, "I completely understand amigo, what is going on anyway, if I may ask?" He said. "She's leaving me Panchito, all because I wasn't there for her, it seems like I'm always at work, I never have time for anything else. I need to sort out a few things on my own, I'll be sure to keep in touch." Donald said. The bus stopped, both birds stood up, Donald extended his hand. "I hope this isn't goodbye, but if it is, I'm glad I had a few years of laughs with you." Donald said. Panchito nodded and hugged his friend, "Volver seguro Donal'," Panchito said, practically crying, if their friendship was going to end because of a woman Donald loved, then by golly it was going to end. That's true loyalty right there. The rooster let go of his friend, "You best get off now," Donald said, "he's waiting." Panchito looked up at the bus driver who honked his horn, telling him to get a move on, "Hey buddy, in the back, you in or out?" Panchito looked in his direction, "Un momento por favor," he looked back at Donald, "don't forget me eh?" The rooster said with a laugh, "As if one could forget the pistol packing, paso carrying, marital artist rooster that always had my back." Donald said, "I'm going to miss you, and- are you crying?" Donald asked. Panchito was indeed crying, "¡ Fue hermoso señor!" Panchito said, crying again and hugging Donald again, this time it took the duck by surprise, for the rooster was practically choking him. The bus driver looked back again, "Hey buddy!" He said screaming his head off in annoyance. "If you don't move in five seconds I'm going to-" Panchito stopped crying, let go of Donald, who fell back in his chair and sighed. The rooster walked towards the bus driver who was a portly man, who seemed to never leave the house except run this route, which he hated because it took away from his busy schedule of video games and binge eating. Panchito smiled, "Lo siento senor," he said, "but fuck you." He pulled out his pistols, not daring to shoot someone who was technically a public official just threaten him a bit. The bus driver smiled, as he opened the door. Giacomino was standing there in the doorway, "Pistoles," he said, holding a gun, "this guy giving you trouble?" He said. Panchito smiled slyly, "Si senor, very much so." He said sheathing his weapon, hoping that Giacomino would take the hint. He did but still kept his gun out. "Look here," the Italian mobster said, walking up the steps into the bus, "you'd treat my friend here with respect if you know what's good for." The bus driver smiled, "Oh yeah, and you are you Mr. High and Mighty?" He asked. Giacomino smiled, "We got ourselves a comedian," he said, raising his gun to the bus driver's head, "I'm the guy who's going to blow off your head if you don't shut up." Mr. Bruno cocked his weapon, "Senor," Panchito said, "Señor, no lo mates, no merece la pena, es sólo un conductor de autobús." Giacomino smiled, "Does it look like I care?" He said. The rooster stepped in front of the bus driver, putting himself between him and the gun. "Don't do this okay," he said, "No vale la pena. Muerte tiene más conexiones que usted, le sugiero que recuerde que." The rooster said, looking into Giacomino's eyes, pleading that he wouldn't pull the trigger. "Sì Don Gonzales, non potrò mai commettere nuovamente lo stesso errore." Giacomino said, sheathing his weapon. "Let's hope not." Panchito said, as he and Giacomino exited the bus.

When the bus left, Panchito and Giacomino smiled and laughed. "So," Panchito said, "where were we?" Giacomino smiled, "The 'do not kill list'" He said. "Can I ask a favor of you?" The rooster asked. "Sure, what is it?" Giacomino replied. "What's the best way to follow someone without them knowing." Panchito asked. Giacomino smiled again, "Let's take a walk and I'll tell you."

Terry pulled in front of his ruined house, he saw Jose, Rat, and Cyril pulling out random objects. Terry walked over to help, as he was picking up drywall to uncover the television remote, Jose saw him, "Oh Senor Terry, how did the interview go?" He asked. Terry smiled, "Not well."

"Really? Isn't that you're dream job?" Jose said.

"Yeah, but this guy made me change my mind." Terry replied.

"Why is that senor?" Jose asked.

"The guy looked like John Travolta."

"From _Grease_?"

"No, Saturday Night Fever."

"Oh, yeah I would've left too." Jose said with a smile, pulling out a cigar, "Cigar?" He said, offering it up to Terry who shrugged his shoulders. "What the hell," Terry said taking the cigar, "might be fun." Jose pulled out a match, and lit Terry's cigar. "Obri-Obri-, what is the word?" Terry said, beginning to sound like Porky Pig. Jose laughed, "Obrigado, você é bem-vindo amigo." Jose replied. "Sure, I'll pretend to know what that means." Terry said taking a big long drag of the cigar, he coughed, and wheezed, which made Jose smiled. "First time eh?" He said, Terry handed the cigar back to Jose, "I'll stick to scotch, it's a healthier addiction." Jose smiled, "Não ser tão certo quanto que." He said, taking a long drag, and blowing out perfect circles.

Rat was rummaging through the debris when he came upon a door. It was white, still intact and it looked like The Twilight Zone door. Rat was just about to make a move towards it when he heard a voice, "You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension, a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind, you are moving through a land in both shadow and substance of both things and ideas you've just crossed over into The Twilight Zone." Rat stopped and looked around, "Is somebody there?" He asked. Looking around like a schizophrenic. Silence. He shrugged his shoulders and motioned towards the door. "You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension a-" Rat stopped, "Who make saying that?" He said. He looked towards Terry, Jose, and Cyril, who were minding their own business and nowhere near him. Rat huffed and puffed and opened the door. "Holy Mother of Mary!" He screamed. Standing in front of him was a smashing window, an eyeball, a pocket watch, Einstein's "E=mc2", a flying mannequin, all flying through space. "What is this?" Rat said, curious, he stretched his paw into the door, and noticed that he could no longer see it. It disappeared before him. "Goodness." He said, "I best stay clear of any- whoa, whoa, steady, steady!" He said, trying to control his balance, he was leaning too far, and he was too late. He fell into The Twilight Zone, and the door closed behind him. The others were completely oblivious.

Rat walked to what he thought was forward. There was another door, he opened it and saw Rod Sterling, standing there up against the wall with a cigarette in his hand. Rat walked over to him, "Pardon me sir, but where exactly am I?" He asked. Rod Sterling looked down and smiled, "You're in my fucked up mind Shorty." Rat turned and saw that everything was normal, there was an old man sitting there, smoking a pipe and reading a book enjoying the fire. Nothing unusual about that. "How do I get out of here?" Rat asked. "You don't." Rat turned towards the voice, and sitting on a nearby bed was Tina, smoking a cigarette. Rat sighed, "I'm in hell aren't I?" He said. Tina nodded, "Rod Sterling hell." She said taking a drag of the cigarette. Rat looked around and saw a robot, a picture of a melting sun, a screaming woman, "Don't paint the sun anymore! Don't paint the sun anymore!" She was throwing brushes, kicking canvases with her foot, and behaving like a child. There was also a guy in a white suit named Pip, who was smiling, had a handful of money, and was laughing despicably. "Welcome to Hell!" He cried, extending his hands and walking towards Rat. He picked him up and squeezed the life out of him, "So," Pip said, with red eyes and foam at the mouth, "what are you in for?" He opened his breath and breathed on Rat who fanned it away. Rat pulled out a package of Tic-Tac's. "Here," Rat said, holding out the mints, "you need these more than I do." Pip laughed and looked at Tina, "So this is the pompous one you were talking about?" He said, dropping Rat to the floor. Tina nodded, "Yep, that's the little fucker who is so politically correct and nice." Rat straightened his suit jacket, gave Tina a glare, and flipped her off, "Don't come following me back." He said. Tina laughed, "Whatever. Hey, do me a favor though, wake up, wake up! WAKE UP!"

Rat opened his eyes and saw that he was back in the house debris with Panchito shaking him awake. "What are you doing?" Rat asked, noticing that the rooster was holding him, "I thought you were dead senor." The rooster said. "Si," Jose said, "you looked pretty bad senor, like you were sick or something. You alright?" He asked. Rat nodded, "I must've passed out," he said, looking at Cyril, "we best get home old boy." Cyril nodded, "I wonder what Old Toady's been up to." He said with a smile. Rat smiled too, "No telling with him," he said, "Well," he stood. "Goodbye, Panchito, Jose, Terry." He bowed, waved, and he and Cyril walked down the street singing "We're Merrily On Our Way to Nowhere." Toad's favorite song.

Panchito looked at the parrot and had a devious smile on his face, "Jose," he said, "road trip?" Jose shook his head, "I know he's your friend Panchito, he's mine too, but sometimes you got to let him deal with things on his own. Let him go solo for once." Panchito nodded, "But we're the Three Caballeros!" He shouted. "Si," Jose said, "but when we say we're always together, we don't mean _always_ together right?" Panchito looked at his friend, a bit shocked, like his whole life was all his friends, and one of them just shot him down. "I know, he needs the space, the breathing room, I just want to be there for him when he needs it." Panchito said. Jose nodded, "And we will, but right now, he doesn't need us, let's just let him be on his own, he'll call when he's ready." Panchito's phone, which was on vibrate rang. _Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

"Ahola, Panchito speaking." The rooster said.

"Hey Panchito, it's me Donald, can you come get me?" Donald said in a whisper.

"Sure!" Panchito cried, he turned to Jose, "See, I told you." Jose rolled his eyes. "So, how much is your bail?" The rooster asked. "$50o bucks," Donald said, "would you mind hurrying there's a guy that's kind of-" he stopped, in the background Panchito heard the sound of laughing, 'You're kind of pretty for a man.' More laughing. That was all the rooster needed to here. "Is someone in there with you?" Donald nodded, "Yeah, his name is Bubba Jim." Panchito nodded, his eyes becoming more vicious, "Let me speak to this fellow eh?" He said. Donald handed Bubba Jim the phone. "Yeah?" Jim said. "Listen you, I don't know you the hell you think you are, but let me tell you who I am." Panchito said. "Oh yeah, who are you?" Jim asked. Panchito removed the phone from his ear and shook it violently, his face about to explode, he was pissed off. "¡Si le toca, le mataré, despacio, dolorosamente, y muy implacablemente, entenderé que usted culo(asno) pervertido grande!" He shouted, Jim laughed, "Oh yeah!" He apparently knew Spanish. "Well let me tell you something-" Panchito cut him off, "Let me tell you something bitch, I'm coming for my friend, then I'm coming for you, and it will not be pretty." He said. "Really, I'd love to see that." Jim said. Panchito threw his phone up in the air, pulled out his pistols, and shot the device into pieces which littered the ground.

"Hello?" Jim said, the other end disconnecting. "Well," he said turning back to Donald, "where were we?" He said. Donald gulped and loosened his collar, sweating.

Terry looked at the rooster with surprised eyes, "Are you alright?" He asked. Panchito shook his head, "Can I borrow your phone?" He said. Terry nodded and handed his cell phone, calling the jail. Jim picked up the phone. "H-" Panchito didn't let him utter a single word, "Adios, lo siento por no tener modales" and hung up the phone.


	17. There's No Need for This to Be a Musical

**Chapter Two: There's No Need for This to Be a Musical**

**_Disclaimer_: This is comedy, it's supposed to be funny. If anyone is offended by any joke remember it's a JOKE. I don't want to offend anyone, that's not the purpose, the purpose is to make you laugh. If you are offended then I'm sorry, I don't mean to. **

**It's under "Parody & Angst" for a reason. **

**(Note: the reason this is funny is because Panchito has unnecessary visas that he doesn't need)**

Bubba Jim hung up the phone. "So," he said, "it looks like we're going to have a little bit of time to ourselves." He loosened his belt. Donald gulped again, "I'm already taken." He said. Jim laughed, "Once you're in here, your life out there doesn't mean shit." He said, pulling down his pants and showing the duck his manhood. Donald fainted.

Donald woke up, he looked around and saw that he was in the jail cell. He got up and saw that Bubba Jim was sleeping, pants back on, in the above bunk. The duck walked over to the cell door and thought about how he got there. All he did was go to the airport...

The bus dropped him off at the South Gate. The airport was large, bigger than John F. Kennedy and busier than the Stock Market. Donald walked in with his suitcase, which he picked up from his house on the way, for the bus driver was awesome. Well, the bus driver was Goofy. The other bus driver that was heckling Panchito earlier quit, Goofy got on and started driving and so that's that.

Standing in the airport, Donald walked over to the walked over to the moving sidewalk and got on. As the sidewalk slowly moved, he saw Oswald. Donald waved, "Hey Oswald what's up!" He called. Oswald turned, smiled, and walked over to him. "Oh hey Donald, where are you going?" He asked. "New York City." The duck answered, getting off the sidewalk. "I'm headed to Dallas," Oswald said, "for the cartoon convention and the JFK reenactment." Donald looked at the rabbit, "They do that?" He said a bit surprised that people would actually go see a reenactment of one of the most pivotal and tragic events in United States presidential history. "Yeah," Oswald said, looking at the duck as if he should know what he was talking about, "the JFK reenactment is like a big deal." Donald smiled, "Yeah, in Dallas." He said. Oswald smiled, and waved goodbye, "Well, good luck in New York." Oswald said and walked away. Donald smiled as he walked towards security.

Security was pure torture. It was slow and painful to watch. First off, Donald was in the back of an extremely long line. There was even a sign that read:

_"Don't even bother standing here, it'll be a 2 hour wait, so don't waste your time. Turn around, hail a taxi, and get your ass back home."_

Too late, because just as Donald was about to do so, a large family, in both senses, came up behind him in line. The father, who was behind Donald, was breathing as if he had just ran a marathon. In truth he only ran from the walking sidewalk to the line, which was like thirty feet. This man was visibly sweating, his grey t-shirt told the whole world that this guy hasn't exercised in like thirty years and only keeps a gym membership to make himself feel better. The wife, who was behind him, was no better. She was munching on a granola bar. She was less sweaty but was also out of shape. Her knees were aching from the strain and she was shaking. "Robert!" She said. "I'm going to faint." She began to bob and teeter. "No you're not honey," Robert said, "I got you." Donald looked at both of them and fumbled around his suitcase for a piece of paper.

_This is the last will and testament of Donald Duck, who was crushed by an overweight couple..._

He started to write this, but felt bad because he knew that they really couldn't help it. Then he realized something, these people were terrible, awful people. The reason was simple. The kid was carrying all of their stuff, pushing the baby, handling all the tickets, passports should they need them, the finances, the lodgings when they landed, the food, the driving, and even the bathing. Yeah that's right, this kid had to bathe his parents because they were too fat and lazy to do it themselves. Not to mention that these people were just complete and total assholes. "John!" Robert screamed. "Hurry it up we're leaving!" He said. John nodded, "Yes sir," he said slowly making his way to his parents. "Oh my gosh if you moved any slower time would stop, hurry it up!" Robert screamed. Donald rolled his eyes, stepped out of line, flipped off the parents, and walked over to John. "Here," the duck said, "let me help you." He said, grabbing what he could and walking back over. Robert was furious. His face was bleeding red, and he was about to literally burst, he was already going to anyway if he ate another morsel of food. "How dare you defy me!" Robert said. Donald looked up at him, "How dare me? How dare YOU defy humanity! How dare YOU defy this kid's childhood. How dare YOU just stand there and do nothing while this kid, who does everything for you, has to carry YOUR STUFF?" He got up in Robert's face, forcing the fat man to lean back. "I have half a mind to punch your lights out and send you to Turkey." Donald said, rolling up his sleeve ready to punch the guy's lights out. Robert smiled. "You're under arrest." He said, pulling out a police badge. Donald sighed, and stood down. Robert laughed, along with his wife, they were both nasally and unforgettable. "That's right!" Robert said, gloating as Donald went back to his spot, "walk away you goose." Donald stopped and shrugged his shoulders, "Eh, fuck it." He said as he turned around and punched Robert in the face...

Donald sat down on the jail cell floor. He wanted to be away from Jim, and he wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Just then a guard walked up with a massive group of keys. He went through each one until he stopped on a bright silver one, it was small, and was the last key on his massive key ring. He put the key in the cell door, turned it, and looked down. "You Donald Duck?" He said. "Yeah." Donald said standing up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes that his friends were coming to save him. "You have a new cellmate, come on in you go." The guard said. Coming from behind the guard was Launchpad McQuack, the family friend, and world's flying ace...well, sort of. "Hey Donald!" Launchpad said enthusiastically, "whatcha been doin'?" He asked. Donald smiled, "Nothing much Launch," he said, "just you know, in jail." Launchpad nodded, "Yeah it's a nice place." He said looking around, nodding in approval. Jim began to stir. "Well," he said, turning over, "you look kinda pretty for a man." He said. Launchpad smiled, "Well thanks, I try to keep my physique up with the famous actors. Look," he said messing with his hair, "I'm Tom Cruise!" Jim golf clapped and jumped from his bed. "Very funny." He said in a non motionless tone. "Thanks, that one's a killer." Launchpad said with a small laugh of his own. He turned to Donald, "You know, I think I'm going to like this guy, put 'er there pal, name's Launchpad," he said, closing his eyes and extending his hand. "What's yours?" He opened his eyes and saw that Jim had once again repeated his action. "Oh my," Launchpad said, "that's um, actually," he said looking at Jim's face, "I believe Eric Idle wrote a song about that." He said. Jim smiled, as he pulled his pants back up. "Is that so?" He said. Launchpad nodded, "Yeah," he said, rolling up his sleeve, "it kind of goes like this." He punched Jim hard in the face. Jim smiled, "Catchy." He said, and fell down on the concrete floor face first.

"Oh Senor Terry," Panchito said, "I'm going to need to borrow your phone." He said. Terry smiled, "Yeah, let me think about that, um, no. Are you crazy? Me, letting you, borrow my phone. Look what you did to my house!" He said. Panchito sighed, "That was Spielberg's fault!" He said. Terry nodded, "Yeah, I'll believe that story." He said, "Where's Donald anyway?" He asked. Panchito slapped his own face, "You got to be kidding me," he said to himself, "he's in jail you dunce! We have to get him out of there." He said. "Agreed but afterwards, no more helping." Jose said. "We got to let him do this on his own." The birds looked at Terry, "I'll pick you guys up if I must." He said. "Great." Panchito said and they headed off to the airport.

When they arrived at the security check out line, they a security guard, it was none other than the one, the only, most annoying bird south of the border. The Aracuan Bird. He was dressed in a blue security guard outfit and sounded more like his even more annoying cousin, Woody Woodpecker. When he saw Jose he winked. Jose just rolled his eyes, flipped him off and walked on through. Terry walked in just fine. Panchito as you can imagine, had difficulties. "Whoa, hold it." Aracuan said. "I'm sorry sir but I'm going to have to ask you to unload your weapons, ammo, and any other similar objects into the tray." Panchito shrugged his shoulders, "Sure whatever." He said and dumped his pistols, the ammo, his holsters which could detach from his belt, his belt, he didn't need one anyway, and his sombrero. Panchito was about to walk through the metal detector when the Aracuan stopped him again with his hand, "Green card please." Panchito groaned, "Seriously, Aracuan, you know me, we used to work together." Aracuan smiled, "Never seen you before in my life chubby." He said. "So, uh, you're green card?" Panchito pulled out his wallet and opened it. "Let's see," he said, naming everything as he went through, "A-1, A-2, A-3, B-1, B-2, B-3, F Visa, J-1 Visa, H-1B Visa, L-1 Intracompany Transferee, TN Visa, K Visa, and finally, here it is the beautiful old V Visa, aka, the Green Ca-" he was about to pull it out, but when he looked in his wallet it was gone. "Sir," the Aracuan said, "you're holding up the line." Panchito nodded, "Si, si," he said looking back at the long line of people who were grumbling and mumbling, "lo siento!" He said. "Look, I don't like you, and you don't like me, so now that we share a mutual hatred, let's just say that I was born here okay, for sake of argument." The Aracuan nodded slowly, "Or," he said pulling out the Green Card from his pocket, "You could come and get it!" He said, running away waving the Green Card in the rooster's face. "Deja a ese ladrón!" Panchito shouted as he ran after him with his friends close behind.

Dodging and waving through suitcases, massive crowds, and police dogs on duty, the three birds and one guy chased each other. "Give it up Aracuan!" Panchito said, cornering the bird in a corner up against a pile of boxes, "You have nowhere left to run!" The Aracuan smiled, "Don't be so sure!" He said as he ran towards the limos who were at pick up. The rooster desperately followed him but Aracuan was gone into a limo before Panchito made it out the door. Jose and Terry finally caught up to him. "Who was that?" Terry asked trying to catch his breath. "The Aracuan," Jose answered, "the one bird in the whole fucking world I can't fucking stand. See, I'm cursing now, that's how much I fucking hate him. Oh, ele é um idiota!" He walked towards the door. Panchito grabbed the parrot's umbrella and pulled him back, "I know how much you want to kill that son of a bastardo, believe me, I need to, he has my Green Card, but we need to be smart about this." Jose nodded, "The question is, where would he go?" Terry looked over to the man holding up a sign that said _Brooks_ on it. "Hey," Terry said, "are you a limo driver?" He asked. The limo driver nodded, "Yes sir," he said in a thick Russian accent, "My name is Filipp Kliment Zolnerowich, but you can just call me Boris." Terry nodded, "Alright Boris, can you do me a favor..."

As Terry was talking to Boris, another security guard walked up to Panchito, "Excuse me," he said, holding the container with all of the rooster's stuff. "Is this yours?" He said. Panchito nodded, and took the stuff putting everything back where it was. "Gracias senor!" He said with a bow and a smile. "Yeah," the security guard said, "you can't have weapons in the airport." Panchito sighed, "Right," he said, "well what am I to do eh?"

"You're on the no fly list." The security guard said.

"The no fly list!" Panchito exclaimed, "It's not like I was going to use them or anything, I have a C&C license." He said.

"Show it to me sir." The security guard asked.

Panchito nodded as he pulled out his wallet. "Let's see," he said once again, going through everything, "A-1, A-2, A-3, B-1, B-2, B-3, F Visa, J-1 Visa, H-1B Visa, L-1 Intracompany Transferee, TN Visa, K Visa, don't have the V-Visa, aka Green Card anymore, and finally, the good old C&C!" He said handing the little bitty orange card to the security guard. He smiled. "Good news, you're going to jail." He said. "For what?" Panchito said a bit confused. "You don't have a green card." The guard said. "I _had_ my green card, but you see a stupid Aracuan bird took it and I well you know how those things go right?" The security guard nodded. "Yeah and we'll get him later, but right now you and your friends are coming with me." terry walked over away from Boris. "Anything I can help with officer?" Terry asked. "Yeah," the officer said, "you with them?" Terry nodded, "Why is there something wrong?" Terry asked. The officer smiled, "Come on, this way."

Donald and Launchpad paced the floor, creating a rut in the floor. "How can we get out of this place." Donald said. "I don't know," Launchpad said, "but how's Daisy?" he said. Donald sighed, "Daisy's breaking up with me."

"What? No!" Launchpad said in surprise, he never thought this day would come, "Do you think Gladstone has anything to do with it?" He said. Donald shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe, but it seems unlikely. I just need to get out here!" He walked over to the cell door and shook the bars. "Come on let me out!" Donald said, "I don't belong here." Launchpad smiled as he started to sing Michael Jackson's _Thriller_. "Thriller, thriller, night..." as he was doing the dance moves he moved closer and closer to the cell door, adding a spin move here and there, banging his side up against the cell door, making the cell bars wider and wider as he wedged his shoulder into the holes ever so pushing them outward. When it got large enough get to be a show off, Launchpad spun all the way out and did a dismount as if he were a male ballet dancer or something. Donald rolled his eyes and walked out. "Show off." Launchpad smiled, "At least I know how to have fun." he said as they walked towards the door.

Just as this happened, the door opened and Launchpad and Donald quickly got up against the wall as if that could do anything. "Alright you guys," he said walking to the cell next door to Jim's. He pulled out another similar small silver key. Panchito, Jose, and Terry came walking behind him and entered the cell. "I'm calling my lawyer." Terry said. The guard laughed, "Yeah sure." He said with sarcasm. The guard walked away, not noticing the two ducks. Jose did though. "Donal' Senor McQuack!" He cried. Launchpad smiled, "Well hello Mr. Carioca," he said with a bow, "how are things in Brazil?" He asked. "Fine," Jose said, "the family sure does miss you." Launchpad nodded, "Yeah, the Air Force has been needing extra guys lately so you know. Anyway," he said walking over, "let me get you guys out of here. Step aside." He looked at Terry who pulled out his phone, "Hey you got any Michael Jackson on there?" Launchpad asked. Terry nodded, "Yeah, which one?" He said. Launchpad shrugged his shoulders, "Whatever suits your fancy." He said. "Alright." Terry said and played the first song on his list, _Smooth Criminal_. Launchpad smiled, "Nice." He said as he spun into the cell door, putting his shoulder in the hole pushing with his weight, making the hole bigger as the song began. Launchpad sang, a perfect initiation of Michael Jackson, like seriously, it was scary good. "As he came into the window, it was the sound of a crescendo." They all exited the jail cell. "He came into her apartment, he left the bloodstains on the carpet. She ran underneath the table, he could see she was unable. So she ran into the bedroom, she was struck down, it was her doom." They all walked towards the cell door. Following Launchpad's lead of steps. Terry and Donald rolled their eyes, "Annie are you ok? So, Annie are you ok? Are you ok, Annie? Annie are you ok? So, Annie are you ok? Are you ok, Annie? Annie are you ok? So, Annie are you ok? Are you ok, Annie? Annie are you ok? So, Annie are you ok? Are you ok, Annie?" They were closer to the door, when the chorus came in, Panchito and Jose joined it, providing the percussion by clapping, "Annie are you ok? Will you tell us that you're ok? There's a sign in the window that he struck you, a crescendo, Annie. He came into your apartment, he left the bloodstains on the carpet. Then you ran into the bedroom, you were struck down, it was your doom." Just then they opened the door and the guard appeared and was surprised to find three birds singing Michael Jackson perfectly. "What's going on here?" He asked. Launchpad smiled, "Annie are you ok? So, Annie are you ok? Are you ok, Annie? Annie are you ok? So, Annie are you ok? Are you ok, Annie? Annie are you ok? So, Annie are you ok? Are you ok, Annie? Annie are you ok? So, Annie are you ok? Are you ok, Annie?" He walked over to the guard and hit him in the face, "You've been hit by," slap, slap "You've been hit by," slap, "A smooth criminal." The guard's cheek was red, "Um...ow!" He said not caring that they were escaping.

To make matters worse, the same exact song at the same exact time Terry's phone was at. Perfect sync. Launchpad smiled, as he continued singing, as Donald walked up to get on his plane, "So they came into the outway, it was a Sunday- what a black day. Mouth to Mouth resuscitation, sounding heartbeats, intimidations." He waved goodbye along with Panchito and Jose. Security guards rushed towards them. K-9 units were deployed. "Annie are you ok? So, Annie are you ok? Are you ok, Annie? Annie are you ok? So, Annie are you ok? Are you ok, Annie? Annie are you ok? So, Annie are you ok? Are you ok, Annie? Annie are you ok? So, Annie are you ok? Are you ok, Annie?" Terry rolled his eyes, "Shut up!" he screamed, "Let's get out of here!" He ran towards the door, but was stopped by a K-9 unit. The dogs were growling and not looking happy that this idiot disturbed their lunch break. Terry smiled. "Just kidding." He said. The police officer holding off the dogs nodded, "Are you involved sir?" He asked. Terry shook his head, "No, I'm just an innocent bystander." The police officer nodded, "Understood, go on through." The dogs stood down but watched him carefully as Terry walked out of the airport, headed towards his car, and took a deep breath.

The birds meanwhile kept on singing, climbing onto boxes trying to avoid the police officers and security guards. The police dogs were barking furiously. Launchpad smiled and shrugged his shoulders, ignoring everything and continued singing. "Annie are you ok? Will you tell us that you're ok? There's a sign in the window that he struck you, a crescendo, Annie. He came into your apartment, he left the bloodstains on the carpet. Then you ran into the bedroom, you were struck down, it was your doom." The guards began to climb the pyramid of boxes. "Alright guys that's enough, time to-" Panchito punched him in the face. "Panchito!" Launchpad said, a bit shocked, "why'd you do that for?" Panchito shrugged his shoulders, "I'm already a fugitive, I don't give a fuck!" By this time in the song they were already behind on lyrics so the birds just made up for sound effects. They each grabbed a guard by the collar and slapped them in the face three times letting Michael Jackson sing the finishing part of the verse, _"You've been hit by."_ Slap, slap, _"you've been struck by."_ slap _"a Smooth Criminal."_

"Okay," a guard on the ground said, who was near the K-9 police officer, "I want everybody to clear the area right now!" He said. The birds smiled and shrugged their shoulders, they then leaned back as one does with a trust fall and fell towards some boxes. _Crash. _The police ran over to them, there were boxes with large holes in them, and moaning and groaning. The police officer holding the dogs looked over, "Are you okay?" The guard that went over to check, rolled his eyes, "Will you tell us that your okay?" The birds slowly got up, a bit woozy from the fall and answered in a high pitched falsetto with knowing keen smiles, "I don't know!" The guard slapped himself in the face as the birds got out of the crushed boxes. Panchito and Jose continued the verse, "Annie are you okay?"

"I don't know!" Launchpad said, in perfect falsetto.

"Will you tell us that you're okay Annie?"

"I don't know!"

"There's a sign on the window..."

As this was happening the birds ran towards the doors. Terry was outside, leaving his car in the No Parking Zone, but he didn't care. He looked over towards Boris who nodded. "Birds!" He called. Launchpad, Panchito, and Jose quickly ran over, still singing the song as guards were chasing them. "Then you ran into your bedroom, you were struck down it was your doom." Then for added effect the birds all stopped just as they were exiting the door and turned around. They all put up their right hands signaling for the guards to stop. They did. At once Launchpad, Panchito, and Jose took a deep breath, "You've been hit by," Launchpad exited. "You've been struck by," Jose exited. "A smooth criminal." Panchito exited. They all entered the limo with Boris in the driver's seat, Terry in the passenger, and the three birds in the back. As they drove off, Panchito rolled down his window and flipped the guards off.


	18. Anaheim, Azusa, and Cucamonga

**Chapter Three: Anaheim, Azusa, and Cucamonga **

** (Title is taken from a Mel Blanc quote and said title is dedicated to him. High T chapter for mild sexual references)**

Donald boarded the plane with his one suitcase. He put his luggage in the storage above his seat, which was in the middle of coach, and sense he was a sensible, reasonable fellow, he kindly took the window seat. If there was one thing he hated was when people on a plane before their fellow passenger and didn't take the window seat, causing the other person to pole vault over them. It was disrespectful and annoying. The stewardess walked in, she was homely, not much to her. Typical cliché stewardess uniform, blonde highlights, black stilettos, she was trying to be someone she wasn't. She reminded Donald of a cigarette girl in one of those forties night clubs that Warner Brothers so famously parodied. "Excuse me," Donald said calling her, "peanuts please." The stewardess walked over with a smile and nodded, handing him the peanuts, Donald pulled out the appropriate amount and paid the woman. "Thank you sir." She said. Donald nodded and tipped his hat, "No problem Miss..."

"Daisy." The stewardess answered.

"Oh," Donald said, looking out the window, "great."

"Is something wrong sir?" Daisy the stewardess asked.

"Daisy is my girlfriend's name." Donald answered, "I'm trying to win her back by showing up to her dumb fall fashion line up." The stewardess nodded, "Did you try talking to her?" She asked. Donald turned towards her, "I'm not much on the talkative side, I'm more of the, give you flowers, give you candy, kiss, make up, move on with our lives type of guy." Daisy the stewardess nodded, and pulled out a package from her fanny pack which she carried around her waist. "For luck." She said. Donald was expecting a cliché wings pin or cross or something like that, but instead she handed him a package of condoms, a big bright blue package with a smiling Trojan on it, giving the thumbs up. Donald just looked at the package then looked at himself and back at the stewardess, "Thanks." He said, Daisy the stewardess smiled and walked away.

Just then, a woman came on board. She was wearing a black overcoat and a white shirt, obviously on a business trip. She was a walking advertisement. From her expensive makeup to her expensive high heels. Everything was on this woman, if every single executive from every major company in the world were on that plane, they could use her as a sales pitch. Tugging on her arm and wailing like a baby, was her kid, his name was Julius, but everyone called him Caesar. He was wearing a white shirt with salmon colored pants, and had a green hat on. Fitting for his name. His attitude though was well, let's just say that Bill Cosby got it right. "Mommy," Caesar said, "I want some candy, can you please, please, please, please, please, please, please buy me some?" The woman looked down, she was talking on her cell phone a million miles a minute as if she had nothing better to do that to you know, like be a parent for once in her life, but a business person who wears practically every name brand in the world doesn't have time for that. Especially when you are a stockholder of Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Instagram, Internet Explorer, Disney, and Universal. "Yes I know that I'm losing money!" She screamed in the phone. Muffled hurried voices. "Don't tell me that the stock market is down again, do you know who I am?" She said taking herself and her son to their seats right in front of Donald. _"Yes ma'am, I know who you are." _The voice on the other line said. "Well let me remind you, I am Meredith Blake, the wealthiest person on this plane who is sitting in coach. I'm sitting in fucking coach! Why? Because you said that I need to save my money."

_"But Mrs. Blake, you do need to save your money. Just because you have more money than the Prince of Prussia doesn't mean that you can-" _

"Fuck you." She hung up the phone and sat down. Donald was stupefied, he was fine with cursing, he didn't mind it much. What he did mind was cursing in front of children, especially when parents do it to their own. It drove him crazy. As she was getting settled, Caesar started complaining again, "Mommy, I want to watch cartoons, why can't I watch cartoons, can I have a piece of candy, I want a Reese's cup, can I have a Reese's cup?" Meredith rolled her eyes, "Yes, okay, fine!" she said pulling out the candy from her purse and handing to the child. "Here's your fucking candy." Finally Donald couldn't take it anymore and did what any normal citizen would do. Solve the problem yourself.

"Excuse me," Donald said, tapping her on the shoulder. "What?" Mrs. Blake said, turning around. "It's impolite to curse in front of children." The duck remarked. Meredith laughed, "Do you know who I am?" Donald shrugged his shoulders, "A narcissistic spoiled businesswoman who has nothing better to do with her life than to scar her kid?" Meredith was shocked and gave a politician would give when told that they have been lying. "Now look her, I don't need some water fowl to tell me how to behave in front of my kid!" She said. Donald nodded, "And normally I wouldn't," he said, "but you are so caught up in your phone that you don't even see your kid, granted he's annoying the heck out of me too, but for goodness sake show a little love!" Meredith nodded with a sarcastic smile, "I'll keep that in mind." She said, turning back around in her chair. Donald laughed to himself, _Panchito would've been proud._ He thought, slightly missing his friend. That was something that never crossed his mind before. Missing that rooster. That hot headed, devilish clever, nuisance that caused Donald so much anxiety. After the events of the fireworks, Donald had to undergo therapy due to 'lack of mental stability and insanity caused by a chicken.' Quote the doctor's note on Donald's prescription meds that he still took.

Meredith turned towards her son, who was just sitting there, eating his candy, minding his own business, not really doing anything. "Julius," she said, calling the boy by his real name, "I want you to be a good boy for Mommy while she talks on the phone with a client okay?" Caesar nodded, "Okay." He said, focusing his attention on the wrapper. Meredith dialed a number, the phone rang, it was on speaker. "Hello?" She said, "Thomas!" her face lit up, "Do you want to fuck it up later?" She said with a smile. Donald kicked the back of the seat, hearing the conversation. Meredith turned back, scolding him, "Can't you see I'm busy?" Donald looked down at his phone, pretending not to notice, "Hello!" Meredith said to Donald, "I'm talking to you?" Donald looked up at her, "Oh what, I'm sorry, I have a reflex problem, spasms and such things."

"Yeah whatever." Meredith said turning back around. "Sorry, I was dealing with a real son of a bitch- ow!" Donald kicked the seat again, causing Meredith's head to hit the back of the seat in front of her and her hair to be out of whack. "Excuse me," she said, "we'll talk about it later." She hung up the phone again. She unbuckled her seat and got up. She went into the aisle and faced Donald with a sly smile, the kind Panchito would've gave. "Look goose." Donald smiled, "Duck actually," he rolled his eyes, _"So this is on what Panchito goes through? Wow, it must be hell."_

Meredith smiled, "Yeah well, I don't really care what you are, you just ruined my call with a client." Donald smiled, "You mean your important phone call with your important client because you're a whore or is it because your having an affair Mrs. Blake, last time I heard you were married to Mr. Richard Blake, the rich business executive of Coca-Cola." Donald said with a smile. "Now you listen here you-"

"Attention passengers," the Captain came on the intercom, "this is your captain speaking. My name is William, and I have been flying United Airlines for twenty years, married have kids, and am currently attending AA meetings. Now, since we're going to have a long flight together, I want to get to each and every one of you, so before we take off, we're going to say a little bit about ourselves. Just say your name, your profession, and one uncomfortable thing about yourself. For example, I might have a case of hemorrhoids, but the doctors aren't really sure. So, let's keep the ball rolling shall we?" He came off the intercom and was replaced with a peppy schoolgirl voice, Lucy. "Hi everybody! I'm Lucy, I am a college student who is studying unemployment, I also have a sex tape, it's on YouTube, I want to be an internet sensation. Like, Subscribe, and Rate!" She did her quirky little laugh got off the intercom. Things continued like this for several hours, until every single person- including Donald did this. By the time everyone was finished, it was midnight.

"Alright everybody that was a fun little exercise now wasn't it?" It was the Captain on the intercom again, "Now tonight we are going to go from Hollywood, which is here, to our destination being New York City." he paused, "With pit stops in Honolulu, Tokyo, Beijing, Mumbai, Delhi, Moscow, Athens, Alexandria, Rome, Florence, Venice, Vienna, Munich, Berlin, Copenhagen, London, Edinburgh, Dublin, Reykjavík, Buenos Aires, Rio de Janerio, Manaus, Mexico City, El Paso, Austin, Dallas, Montgomery, Mobile, Jacksonville, Tallahassee, Orlando, Daytona, Charleston, Raleigh, Richmond, Washington D.C., Philadelphia, Boston, and finally New York City." Donald's eyes grew huge, he did not sign up for a tour of the world's airports. The stewardess walked by, "Miss Daisy," he said, "he is kidding right?" Donald asked. The stewardess shook her head, "Nope, we're going to New York City, with pit stops in Honolulu, Tokyo, Beijing, Mumbai, Delhi, Moscow, Athens, Alexandria, Rome, Florence, Venice, Vienna, Munich, Berlin, Copenhagen, London, Edinburgh, Dublin, Reykjavík, Buenos Aires, Rio de Janerio, Manaus, Mexico City, El Paso, Austin, Dallas, Montgomery, Mobile, Jacksonville, Tallahassee, Orlando, Daytona, Charleston, Raleigh, Richmond, Washington D.C., Philadelphia, Boston-" Donald nodded and politely cut her off, "and then New York City, got that part, but I didn't sign up for a round trip of the world's airports. I just want to go from point A to point B with no layovers." The stewardess smiled, not feeling sorry for him at all, "You should've paid closer attention to your plane ticket sir." She said in a condescending voice. "What!" Donald said, getting a bit agitated with her, "I bought a one way ticket to New York City." Miss Daisy shook her head with a smile. "No you didn't sir, pull out your ticket and I'll show you." He did. Nothing was there, except the words, _"One-Way, Hollywood to New York City." _in big bold letters. "There's nothing about all these pit stops on this thing!" Donald said, getting mad that he paid two-hundred dollars for a ticket for a trip that 'didn't exist'. The stewardess smiled and pulled out a magnifying glass, putting it up to the ticket. Apparently at the bottom in exactly .002 font, the smallest font in the world, there in parentheses was the unnecessarily long list of pit stops. Donald looked up at her, "Look sweetheart," he said trying to be as innocent as possible, "I'm trying to save a relationship with my girlfriend her, I'll probably be ninety by the time we actually get to New York, so I'm going to get off this plane now if you don't mind." He said, attempting to get out of his seat. The stewardess put a hand on him, forcing Donald to sit back down. "I'm afraid you can't do that sir, once you're on the plane, you're on the plane." Donald rolled his eyes, "It hasn't even left the runway yet, we've been sitting here for six hours!" The stewardess smiled and walked away, no longer caring about the duck's predicament.

Caesar was playing with a toy airplane making little noises as kids do with that sort of thing. Donald sighed, and imagined Launchpad coming to save him, he had half a right mind to call him. In fact, hey Donald.

"Yeah."

Pull out your cell phone.

"Why?" He asked me.

You are dumb aren't you, read the last paragraph I wrote.

"Pull out your cell phone?" He said.

What, no, that's a sentence, the _paragraph! _

Donald leaned out from the screen and looked up a bit, scrolling to read this manuscript, he read it upside down but that was okay. "Ohh," he said leaning back towards his seat, "gottcha buddy." He said as he pulled out his cell phone and called his relative.

Panchito, Jose, and Launchpad were in the limo on the side of the road. They hadn't moved all day. "So," Boris said, "where do you want to go?" The three birds shrugged their shoulders, they really didn't have any plans, they were just enjoying themselves in the back of Boris's limo. Launchpad looked out of the window and saw the airport runway lights. At the end of it was his small little biplane, the cause of him being thrown in jail. You see it all started this morning...

Launchpad was doing a routine delivery for the Air Force, a simple package of letters to soldiers to family members. A simple flight from Portland, Launchpad's home base, to Hollywood, not hard right? Well apparently, the idiot forgot to fuel up on gas and was going down, conveniently just as he was towards the runway. To make matters worse, his instruments were acting up. The needles on his compass and his altitude instruments were saying that he was about two thousand sixty feet above sea level, when he was really five feet from the pavement. Control Tower called in. "Excuse me sir but you are an unidentified aircraft, please identify yourself." Launchpad quickly picked up the radio and screamed. "HEEEEEEEEEELLLPPPP! I'm an Air Force pilot, going down, I need help!" The Control Tower operator sighed, "Just calm down sir, who are you again?" Launchpad's face grew red, he was about to die on the freaking runway and all the Control Tower cared about was his name. "Okay," Launchpad said screaming his head off, "here it is, it's Mr. Go to Hell!" He hung up the radio and slammed the breaking mechanisms just in time for a smooth landing... and an arrest. Apparently you have to ID yourself at an airport. Launchpad tried to explain himself but all he got was, "Ironically you're a duck who can fly, you fly an airplane and your landing gear as well as everything else was faulty."

"Yeah, that's exactly what happened officer. I'm just here to deliver some mail." Launchpad said, holding out the mail bag.

"I don't believe you," the officer who was inspecting him said, he pulled out a flashlight and checked his pupils. Launchpad shielded his eyes, "Ow, hey what the hell," the officer pulled the flashlight away. "A little warning next time please." Launchpad said rubbing his eyes. "Are you in the possession of narcotics sir?" The officer asked. "What?" Launchpad said, giving the officer a confused look, "there aren't any drugs in this plane." The officer smiled, pulling out a rubber glove from his pocket and putting it on like a doctor who was about to do a prostate exam. The snap of the rubber glove up against the man's wrist made Launchpad cringe and pray for mercy. "Really, well," he said leaning down to the duck's level, "we'll see about that..."

"Launch!" Jose yelled, seeing the duck in a twitchy painful expression. "Launch!" He said again. Launchpad didn't move, he just sat there, shaking, almost shivering. "Hey," Panchito said looking over at the duck, "you don't look so good." Launchpad nodded, "I'll be alright," he said, turning over, his face almost green. "I just need to-" Boris rolled his eyes, "Out the window please!" He said. Too late. Puke and the product of a malfunctioning digestive system splattered all over the floor. Getting everyone in the limo covered with leftover vomit, mucus, snot, and more of Launchpad's unwanted body fluids. Panchito and Jose looked at themselves, disgusted at the guck that was over them. "Sorry fellas," Launchpad said, "I just had bad sushi." He lied. Panchito turned to him, "Es amigo de sushi más malo." He said waving his arm trying to fan the stench out the open window.

Launchpad looked over at the parrot, he grabbed a cigar. Launchpad pulled out his lighter and lit it for him. " Obrigado." He said. Launchpad nodded, "Hey, you got another one of those?" Jose nodded and handed him one, "The best cigars in the world." Launchpad smiled and smelled it, taking a long whiff. Panchito looked over and smiled knowingly, "I thought you were going to quit?" Jose exhaled a ring of smoke. "I thought you were going to hang up your spurs a long time ago but that hasn't happened yet either." Panchito smiled, "The day I do that," he said, "I'll be dead on the floor." Jose smiled, "That's why you're my amigo, you never quit on anything." Panchito smiled, "Gracias amigo." Boris looked back at the three birds, "You guys want to go somewhere?" He asked a bit tired of sitting on the side of the road. Launchpad looked out of the window again seeing his plane, remembering it again. "Oh darn it," he said, not cursing, something that he really didn't do, "I need to get my plane, head back to the airport." Boris nodded, "Right away sir." He said as he took a hold of the wheel and turned around_. " Rocket Man, Rocket Man! Burning out his fuse up here alone "_ Launchpad's ringtone. He picked up the phone, not caring if vomit was all over it. "Hello?"

"Hey Launchpad?" It was Donald.

"Donny!" Launchpad said, calling the duck by the nickname that only he used. "What's happening, did you get to New York and straighten things out with Daisy?" He asked. "About that, I'm still in the runway." Donald said. "What?" Launchpad said, looking out of the window, seeing the plane in the runway. "Why are you still in the runway?" Launchpad asked. Donald sighed and groaned, "Long story, basically, the Captain's a people person." Launchpad nodded slowly, "This guy's name?"

"William."

Launchpad made a long annoying groan, apparently they have met before, "William!" He said angrily, "Not William! Old Willie Will Nelson George Fran Willie William! That guy is a nutcase Don! You just watch, he's going to sit and talk to you for hours about himself, his life it'll be horrible, you just watch."

"Yeah," Donald said, "can you hold on a second..."

Donald removed the phone from his ear and listened for the intercom. "Ladies and Gentlemen." William said, "We are going to be leaving shortly, in the meantime, why don't we all sing a song, 'Out here in the fields, I fight for my meals, I put my back into my living!'" Donald groaned and put the phone back up to his ear, "Launch get me out of here, he's ruining The Who!" Launchpad laughed, "Who can ruin The Who, they're already ruined. What song is it?" He asked. "Baba O'Riley." Donald answered. "Oh no," Launchpad said sighing, "thanks Will for ruining an American icon, don't worry buddy, I'll get you out of there. Just don't let the plane leave the runway."

"You won't have to worry about that, he's singing the guitar riffs so this'll be a long sing-a-long." He hung up the phone, shrugged his shoulders, and joined in the bad imitation guitar riffs, making random whistling sounds that sounded like the actual instruments. All the while, Caesar was asleep, dreaming about horses.

Boris drove up the airport. Stopping the limo on the runway, flipping the officials off. "Come on guys!" Launchpad said, getting out of the limo. "We got to save him from Guitar Hero!" Panchito and Jose looked confused as they slipped and feel and tripped over each other and rolled in Launchpad's puke. "Guitar Hero?" Panchito asked. "Didn't that become outdated in like 2007?" He asked running over with Jose following behind. "Exactly!" Launchpad said, "I bet he's forcing them to do Freebird on Expert or something..."

He was.

Apparently this plane had the best coach seating ever. There was a TV and a PlayStation 2 with two Guitar Hero guitars. It was on expert and everyone was failing. Except for Donald who was rocking out sadly. He loved Freebird, and didn't mind playing an outdated game that nobody plays anymore, he just hated the fact that William sang the song as he played it. Including the guitar riffs. When it got to the fast part, Donald was hoping that William would stop but he didn't, he just kept right on trucking. Everyone was cheering the duck on, trying to focus their attention on him as he was combining Dance, Dance Revolution and Guitar Hero at the same time.

Launchpad climbed up the moving ladder, Panchito and Jose pushed and heaved it down the runway, speeding along. Boris meanwhile, just waited in his limo, smoking a cigar that Jose left him. "Come on!" Launchpad said, motioning them to jump on. Panchito jumped in a single bound, but Jose was having a bit of trouble. "Vamos Jose!" Panchito cried extending his hand. Jose nodded and reached for his friend's arm. "I can't reach it you idiot!" He said. "Come on you big chalupa, reach for it!" Panchito said somewhat encouraging. "Vai à merda!" Jose said giving Panchito the middle finger, "Not everyone is a fitness buff you know!" Panchito smiled, "Well, you are fat." He said. Jose rolled his eyes and flapped his arms, remembering for a second that he was indeed a parrot. Jose rolled his eyes and flipped him off landing on the back of William's plane.

Panchito laughed, "That's the spirit amigo!" He said not paying attention to the open plane door. "Look out Panchito!" Jose called but it was too late, Panchito banged his head, making that cartoony face of confusion with birds and stars floating around his head. Launchpad, who ducked, and forgot to warn him turned back as he heard the bang. "Be careful KF," he said, leaving off the 'C'. "The door's a doozey." Panchito fell down the stairs like domino, coming in contact with each stair until he reached the ground on his back. Panchito smiled as Launchpad quickly ran down the stairs. "Hey, KF, you okay?" He said, officially giving Panchito the nickname. Panchito looked up at him, appearing to be drunk, "I'll be okay," he said, "go save the pandas from the ocean while I go swimming in the Himalayas!"

Launchpad laughed and walked up the stairs. Jose just jumped down from the plane and made sure that Panchito wasn't suffering from a concussion or something.

As Launchpad was entering the plane, everyone was doing a game of charades, with William as the leader of course. Everyone was miserable, but William forced everyone to do it, he was a dictator. "Alright that's it," he said with a smile, "No, no, no Caesar! You don't do that until after Donald makes the bed." It was Caesar and Donald's turn, they were supposed to be making a bed and cleaning a room, but since William doesn't know how to play charades and doesn't care if people discovered that, he just yelled and screamed, carrying on like a little kid. "No, no, no! You're doing it all wrong!" He screamed. "Well," Donald said, "how would you do it?" He asked. "Like this." William said, imitating to make a bed and clean a room, which was just as bad as the duck and child. "Look," Donald said, watching the pitiful display, "you have a physiological problem, and you need help."

"I do not!" William said, stamping his foot.

"Yes you do." Launchpad said, with a smile, William turned, "You!" He said with disdain, "What are you doing here!" Launchpad looked over at Donald, "Rescue mission from your crazy loony bin." He looked around, "Come on folks, let's get on the right flights out of here huh?" Cheers. Applause. Everyone was basically trapped in a plane and needed to stretch and breath fresh air, and they didn't care that it was one o'clock in the morning either. Launchpad made sure that every person was compensated and that William was put in the crazy house. When that was done it was around four o'clock, with Launchpad and Donald asleep in the chair, Panchito in the medical wing, and Jose talked on the phone to Terry, who was in his hotel room explaining everything.


	19. Holiday Inn v Motel 6

**Chapter Four: Holiday Inn v. Motel 6**

** (High T: Sexual references)**

Terry walked up the parking lot of the Holiday Inn. It was well past dinner time and he was exhausted. The building was a product of 1976, with all of the updated features of 1976. The exterior was Spanish influence, and there was statue of man in a stereotypical Native American costume with a cigar in hand and a smile on his face. His name was Tonto. Walking up to the statue Terry noticed that the hotel was small, almost like a motel, then he looked up at the sign. Motel 6 with the words "Holiday Inn" crudely painted over with neon green spray paint.

As he entered he noticed the carpet, shag, typical 1970's, the front desk, cork, and the concierge. She was an older woman of about sixty-five, with white hair dye in her black hair. I guess she was trying to imitate Ferris Buller's mother. In her hand was a cigarette, which she waved like a conductor's stick fanning the smoke in the room that was already smoky from other people smoking cigarettes. Terry walked up to the desk and ringed the bell. _Ring._ It was small, gold, with the top caved in, like it had taken a beaten by a strongman in the circus arena. The concierge didn't notice, she was too busy waving her cigarette and looking at outdated magazines (from 1976) to care. Terry rolled his eyes and ringed the bell again. _Ring. _This time the woman looked at him, but gave a Kubrick stare. Head titled down, eyes looking beneath the eyebrows. In other words, the stare of death and hate. "What do you want?" She asked, taking a drag of her cigarette. Terry put his elbows on the countertop, "A room please." The woman didn't take her eyes off him, retaining that stare of debauchery as she grabbed a random key from a drawer that was full of keys to things that probably didn't exist. Keys that opened treasure chests and magical unicorn heads, medieval death chambers, the Coca-Cola recipe vault, Walt Disney's frozen head chamber, Fort Knox, you know that sort of thing. She handed him a rusty old key that looked like it belonged to an old sea chest. It was old, covered with mold, and had a weird fishy smell-bad tuna perhaps. Terry looked at the key and took it reluctantly stretching out his hand as if in slow motion. The concierge rolled her eyes, "Oh for goodness sakes!" She said, getting up from her chair, "I'll show you to your room." She got out from behind the desk slowly, looking at Terry with those evil eyes, still holding her cigarette. "You'll be sharing it with another gentleman though, hope that is an inconvenience." She said leading Terry down the short hallway. Terry shook his head, "He'll be better than the roommates I have now." He said with a smile. She put the key in the keyhole, turned it, and looked back at him, "I seriously doubt that, he's a real mess." Terry nodded slowly, not liking the answer, "Mess as in?" He asked. The concierge took a drag of her cigarette and walked away, not bothering to answer.

Terry opened the door to a dark room. Judging from the trickling light from the hallway the room seemed pretty normal. There was a couch on the far wall, a TV across the way, and a table in the center for the sitting area. There was a small hallway which had a one person bathroom and a bedroom with two twin beds in the back. Pretty standard. Terry shrugged his shoulders as he walked in, thinking that as soon as he turned on the lights there would be a smiling man welcoming the new face. Then he turned on the lights and all that went straight to hell, and for that to happen he didn't even need to turn on the light stitch all the way. _Flick._ A pasty white goo was over his finger. Terry pulled his finger in and saw that it was covered in a thin white substance, and it smelled like intense body odor. Semen. Terry took a deep sigh, and realizing that the light switch was half way up he might as well just face the music and see what the damage was.

If you were to take a black light and shine it in the room, it would be white. Literally white. The floor, the ceiling, the furniture, the bed. Everything would be white. To top it off, everything was also covered in hair. Standing in the room, Terry wondered why this place was still open and who the heck caused it. Then he realized he didn't care, he just wanted to get out of there. He coughed and took a step forward, tripping over a chair and landing face first in the stuff. The sound of scurrying little pitter patter. Looking left, Terry saw rats, scavenging for food scraps that were near the abused garbage can. Traces of _Honey Nut Cheerio's_ on the floor, plastic bowls and cups littered the floor and that too was blanketed. Terry also heard the sound of water running in the bathroom. The roommate.

Terry quickly got up, not wanting to be on the floor, open his mouth, or do much of anything for fear of contracting an STD of some kind. The roommate was brushing his teeth, but there was also a moaning and groaning sound at the same time and Terry shuttered at the thought of what he was doing in there...

He was eating. Chicken wings from KFC, bucket on the bathroom counter and a bottle of Famous Dave's Devil's Spit sauce next to that. The roommate was, to quote Kevin Spacey in The Usual Suspects, "orca fat", he could've passed for a blue whale that's for sure, but he looked more like an aging gorilla who had just given up. There was hair all over his body, his stomach was purged to the point of explosion, with the waistline poured over his underpants like a muffin. His underpants by the way, was the only thing this man was in. His face was pudgy and unappealing, it's like if Steven Tyler and Snookie had a baby that was pasty white, this would be their kid. His name was George. Yeah, the same George that fired Terry. Apparently he served some jail time after Panchito's little stunt and got out on good behavior. Now he's just a walking sack of low life human indecency who was brushing his teeth, to pause for a moment to eat chicken and look at himself disgracefully in the mirror.

"Look at you," George said, giving himself a disgustful stare in the mirror, "you're a fat fuck. A fat miserable fuck," he smiled, "who knows how to please." He laughed, in truth, he liked this appearance, and didn't care if anyone saw him like that. He placed his toothbrush in a small blue cup that not surprisingly had hair in it and walked out of the bathroom to see Terry standing there with a horrified expression.

"Dick!" He said yelling his head off, "What the hell are you doing here?" George asked. Terry looked at his former boss, and stood speechless, there are just some things that you just can't un see. "Nothing George," Terry said, eye growing big. "I'll just be going." George smiled, "No, no, please stay, I just finished having company, I wouldn't mind having some more." Terry nodded and looked towards the bedroom, there was a girl who was quickly getting her clothes on. She looked towards him and mouthed the words, "Get out". Terry nodded and made his way slowly to the door, as he backed up he felt George's sweaty, sticky body. "Oh Terry," George said with a creepy smile, "are you ready to have some fun?" He said with a laugh. Terry shook his head, "No, I'm ready to get out of here, now please move." He asked. George laughed and walked towards the couch, "You're not leaving," he said turning on the TV, not caring if traces got all over his hands, it was his after all. "And why is that?" Terry said, checking his pockets to make sure that his phone was still there. "Because," George said reaching from below the couch cushion, pulling out a gun, "if you try to run, I'll kill you." Terry nodded slowly. "Now," George said, come be my footstool." Terry sighed and hung his head. _"This is going to be one long night."_ He thought as he crouched down on all fours in and served as the portly douchebag's footstool.

It was two in the morning by the time George fell asleep, Terry was at this point, covered with sticky milky substance that wasn't milk or eggs. George was passed out drunk, his hand in his pants still rubbing his meat like a hyperactive squirrel on speed. Terry got up from underneath the man's sweaty feet and stood. Looking back down at George, he saw a sea of beer bottles and a glass which was shattered on the floor. Terry rolled his eyes, 'That's it," he said, "I'm out of here." Just then, his phone buzzed, unfortunately the ringtone was on._ "Oh you gonna take me home tonight. Oh down beside that red fire light. Oh you gonna let it all hang out. Fat bottomed girls you make the rocking world go round."_ Terry cringed, as George began to fidget and stir, he was beginning to wake up. George opened his eyes, and smiled, he was still hammered. "Oh, won't you take me home tonight? Oh, down beside your red fire light. Oh, and you give it all you got fat bottomed girls you make the rocking world go round. Fat bottomed girls you make the rocking world go round." He closed his eyes and passed out again. Terry let out a reliving sigh. _"Oh you gonna take me home tonight. Oh down beside that red fire light. Oh you gonna let it all hang out. Fat bottomed girls you make the rocking world go round."_ He answered the phone. "Hello?" He said.

"Terry, it's Jose. Hey do you mind to come and pick me up? The others are kind of out of it and-"

"Jose!" Terry said, ignoring the parrot and trying to be quiet, "I'm so glad you called, listen I'm in a bit of trouble here."

"Oh?" Jose asked, curious, "What's cookin'?"

Terry turned around and waited for George to begin snoring before he continued. "I'm being held hostage by my former boss at the Motel 6 just off the exit." He whispered, "It's a living hellhole." He said.

Jose nodded, taking in the information, "You're in the room?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Is he asleep?" Jose said.

"Yes." Terry answered, walking into the bedroom slowly so he could talk a bit louder.

"Then leave the room!" Jose cried animating his arms in the air a bit. "It's really not that complicated Senor Terry."

"Actually it is Joe, you don't mind if I call you Joe right?" Terry said, opening the bedroom window to let some of the stench out. "Não há problemas em todos os." The parrot said taking a drag of his cigar. "So, I say again, what's cookin'?" The parrot repeated. "Egg yolks on the doorknob." Terry answered. Jose cringed, the thought of being around that amount of any body fluid especially when it wasn't your own, made him a sympathetic. In another life, Jose was concierge in a Memphis hotel, so he had seen this before and knew how to handle such things. "Alright Terry, hold on," Jose said, "I'm on the way, do you need me to do anything for you, get anyone?" Terry nodded, "Yes, call John Silverman." His phone beeped, a notification came up, 1% battery. "Shit!" Terry said, knowing that his phone was about to break up the connection and die, "Terry," Jose asked, "You still there?" Terry sighed, "Yeah, call John, his number is 555-" Beep. The phone disconnected. The T-Mobile shut down screen. Terry sighed and put his phone back in his pocket, "Shit."

Jose put his phone back in his pocket and looked around. He was sitting on a bench, watching his friends sleep nearby. There was a phone booth with a phonebook nearby and sure enough Jose had just enough quarters to make one sixty second call. He hurried over, practically running into the phone as he did so. He opened the gigantic Yellow Pages and began scanning under the S's. His finger slid down the page, as he read off the last names aloud. "Saber, Savior, Seed, Sender, Seat, Silverman!" He stopped his finger on the first Silverman in the list, whose name was John. His face lit up with joy from the luck. "Oh boy, what luck I'm having today," he said as he reached for the phone. Looking back to dial the number though, he noticed a small problem, the rest of the page was full of John Silverman's. Jose rolled his eyes, there is apparently a John Silverman in every city, in every state, in every country in the entire world. So Jose did the only thing he could do, he walked over to the ATM which was nearby, took out all of his savings of $30,978.62, transferred it to quarters, walked back to the phone booth and began dialing John Silverman's number. Every. Single. One...

It was seven o'clock in the morning by the time Jose called the 2,356th John on the list. There was a line of people standing behind him, grumbling and complaining. "Will you hurry it up!" A businessman in an overpriced suit wearing an overpriced hat who bought an overpriced plane ticket and was carrying and overpriced suitcase said. Jose turned to him and curse him out in Portuguese. "Hey, empurrarem o pé até o seu jumento, você sabe quantas chamadas que tive de fazer para encontrar o número certo? Não, não acredito que isso aconteça, para que você possa fuck off!" The parrot flipped the man off, only understanding the last part he walked away. The phone rang, "Hello, this is Officer Silverman."

"Senor John, it's me Jose!" The parrot said with a smile, thankful that he finally found the right John. "Who?" John asked. "Jose Carioca." the parrot said. "I'm sorry I don't remember that name." Jose sighed and shook his head, "The friend of the rooster's." There was a pause. "Oh yeah," John said with an annoyed sigh, "do you need something, I'm kind of busy." Jose nodded, "Si Senor, you need to get to the Motel 6 by the airport, Terry is in there and needs rescue, he's been held hostage!" He cried. "Hostage huh?" John said, "I don't do that sort of thing, sorry, and why should I believe you, how do I know that rooster isn't talking you into playing some sort of prank or something?" He asked. Jose sighed, "Because I am talking to you for one, and two Terry told me to call you, if you don't help him then you're no friend to him at all." John smiled, "Really, what have you been doing to help him?" For the first time in his life Jose was about to snap, if there was one thing he learned from Panchito it was how to show rage. He clutched the phone in his hands, his yellow gloves revealing his hand veins. "Listen to me you egoistical fuck, do you know how many John Silverman's there are in the phonebook! 2,368,504. I spent all night calling every single one of them and finally got to you miserable piece of shit. Now I'm telling you the truth, Terry, your friend, is in that Motel having god knows what happen to him! No you get your ass in there or I'll force you to, I'm not above going to jail for my friends, and you should be getting in that little fucker car of yours because you and I both know what the hell goes on there at three am in dark alleys, don't deny that fact, and getting down here you fucking waste!" He shouted, having a Donald rage moment and hung up the phone. He was so pissed off that he picked up the phone book and started ripping it apart, throwing it around the phone booth and banging his head up against the phone, making a scene and a fool of himself.

Just then Launchpad and Donald came out of the medical wing walking Panchito who was pretty banged up but standing and feeling much better. "Hey," Launchpad said, "isn't that Mr. Carioca?" He asked. Panchito lifted his head and squinted, "Yeah, but why is he banging his head up against the phone?" He said. "Don't know, let's ask." Donald suggested and the three walked over to the booth.

Jose was steaming red like a Ghost Pepper, much like his temperature. "Whoa!" Panchito said, brushing his friends off him shoulders, "You need some water, you're flaming!" He said fanning his friend as best he could with his hands. Jose looked like a pissed off bull in the bullpen, "You have no idea!" The parrot exclaimed, "I spent all night on the phone, it was miserable!" The phone rang again. Jose groaned and turned to pick it up, "Ola', this is Jose Carioca speaking." He said, tired of the phrase that he seemingly had to repeat over and over for 2,356 times. "Carioca," it was John again, "who has him hostage in the hotel?" Jose sighed, "One moment please," he said. He placed the phone down and pulled out his Saint Christopher medal, kissed it and whispered, "Obrigado Saint Christopher."

Terry meanwhile was in the corner of the sitting room, begging for mercy. George was standing up, the fat man towering over him. He laughed. "You look kind of funny when you're all crunched up like an ant." George said. "Here, do my laundry." He pulled down his pants, leaving himself exposed. Terry turned away, "No!" He screamed, "I can be your footstool, I can be your seat cushion, I can brush your teeth and bathe you, but never, in my right mind, would I ever, EVER, do your laundry!" George smiled, and walked over to the couch, pulling out the gun. "Well I guess you'll have to die." The fat man said. Terry nodded, "At this point, it'll be a blessing." he said throwing up on the floor. George laughed as he reached for his pants which was on the floor, and like everything else, was covered in sticky white, but at this point, George didn't care about himself or anything else. Terry stood up when he noticed that George was clothed, his soiled underwear was on the floor. George turned towards him, "You going to do my laundry now?" He said. Terry shook his head, and did the unthinkable, he picked the underpants up and threw it at George's face, they landed directly on target. Manhood's product and hair in George's face. The man quickly removed the underpants from his face and looked around for Terry, but couldn't find him. Terry was gone, he bolted out of the door. "That's it!" George yelled, getting up and grabbing his gun, walked towards the door. Terry was running down the hallway and out the door. George aimed and fired the gun. The bullet missed, hitting the wall, sending a large piece of it into the parallel side. "Dick!" George screamed, "Get back here!" He ran down the hallway, shirtless and flabby stomach and hairy chest hanging out and all. Terry was running through the parking lot and was about to get away when a car pulling in hit him. He stopped dead in his tracks and fell to the ground.

The car was a 1976 Ford pickup, a museum piece. It was rust red with matching interior, the front and rear bumpers were rusted as well as the steel on the tires so the truck looked relatively one big pile of rusted out shit. The driver, who was a pot smoking product of the nineties, got out, his long hair, which he had been growing out since 1997 was down to his waist. He looked like a civilized Tarzan but spoke like Shaggy. "Hey man," he said stoned out of his mind, "you okay?" He asked, trying to help Terry up. "Yeah," Terry asked, shaking the stoner's hand. A gunshot. Terry smiled, and quickly hustled into the driver's seat of the truck, "thanks for the lift." He said and quickly drove off. George ran out into the parking lot, he was breathing heavily and about to have a heart attack. He raised his gun and fired the last bullet. It hit the truck's right back tire. Terry braked as the stoner looked over at George, mad as hell.

"Dude!" The stoner cried, "That was my new tire! I paid $200 for that!" He pulled out his cell phone. "Oh man, you're going to get it good uh-huh." He dialed a number. "Hello? Jerry!" He laughed, completely forgetting the situation and walked away, talking to his friend about the latest video games.

George walked slowly towards the car, his belly fat was about to be a suit of armor if that rooster showed up, which always seemed to be in the back of George's mind. Ever since he was publicly humiliated for being a douchebag and serving a few months in jail, George had one thing on his mind. Chicken. He trained himself to do two things, do nothing and eat chicken. His plan, cook Panchito on a nice fire with a side of mashed potatoes and barbecue sauce. But ever since last night when Terry showed up, George was going to make the best of the situation. He knew the rooster would come, eventually. "Terry," George said with a smile, "it's getting late, come back inside and we'll talk." Terry laughed, "It's nine am George, and no, I'm not going back into that cave of yours." George smiled, nodded and turned around, his back flab hanging out from his pants, which were close to ripping at the seams.

If George's pants were a military unit, then the Sergeant was telling his Lieutenant to hold on and keep it together. _"I can't do it Sergeant! It's too much strain, he should've have eaten those cupcakes last night!"_ The seams said if seams could talk. _"Don't you give me that talk soldier, you pull yourself together," _replied the front zipper, _"Oh my God he's, no, no, no! Not this oh God please, not this! I'm sorry Elizabeth, I'm, I'm sorry, tell the kids I love them, and oh God!" _George reached in his pants and masturbated as he walked back into the hotel. _"Ma-m-m-m-make-i-i-it-st-t-o-op!"_ The zipper pleaded as he felt the large meaty hand up against his back. _"I can't take it anymore, Lieutenant, it's been an honor serving with you!" _

_"Sergeant no!" _

_"Goodbye cruel world!" _The zipper unzipped by itself. The button, who was the zipper's mate was crying, if buttons could do such things. _"Jeffery no!" _The button flew off. The belt buckles were confused and alone, _"Where's Mommy and Da- oh my God, it's true, run for your lives!" _The pants fell down to George's knees but he didn't care, he was still masturbating, and was still walking towards his room. He passed the concierge's desk, the concierge was busy applying Madonna's makeup from 1987. She didn't even notice that George was walking past heading into his dungeon.

Terry laughed as he watched George walk to his room with his pants down. The stoner, who was finished with his conversation came back over. "Hey," he said, "sorry about that earlier, wanna hang out or something?" Terry shrugged his shoulders, "Well, I don't really smoke, but whatever, I'll have a beer or two sure."

"Alright, come on in to my room then." The stoner said, and Terry followed him back into the Motel 6.

John Silverman arrived at the airport in his police car and police dog Luca. He was a Doberman, a big, steroid filled dog whose main job was sniffing out drugs. Jose, Panchito, Donald, and Launchpad came out of the airport. Luca sat patiently by his owner as they all got into the police car one by one. The dog appeared to be fine until Panchito passed. The dog growled. "Whoa, easy pooch," Panchito said, who's secret fear is of big police dogs. "I don't have anything on me." He raised his right hand, "Swear." John looked at the rooster and patted him down. "You're clean, but he's still growling, which is weird, have you taken anything recently?" Panchito shook his head, "No."

"Pills?" John asked.

"No." Panchito said.

"Drugs?" John said with a questioning eye.

"No." Panchito answered again.

"Illegal drugs?" John elaborated.

Panchito smiled, "Does medical weed count?"

"No." John answered.

"Then no." Panchito replied and entered the police car. John shut the door and opened the front passenger. "Up Luca." He said, and the dog entered, moments later John entered and drove off. "Where are we headed again?" John asked. "Motel 6 across the street." Jose answered. John nodded and headed in that direction. The whole time Luca stared at Panchito, giving him the 'don't do anything funny' look.

Terry and the stoner, whose name was Jimmy was drunk in five minutes of entering Jimmy's room. Terry only had one beer and Jimmy wasn't even done with his first. Alcohol affects many different people in many different ways and for Terry he only needs one to act like a complete idiot. He walked over to Jimmy's fridge which had a six pack and took another beer. "Hey Jimmy!" Terry yelled, about to fall over. "Let's raise some hell!" Jimmy raised his beer in approval and the two drunk idiots ran out of the room.

The next scene can be described as the moment of the story where the characters have no idea what they are doing and don't care that they don't know. In other words, drunken stupidity. Terry and Jimmy ran throughout the halls of the Motel 6, running and screaming like banshees. They entered George's room and handed him a beer, and he too joined in the fun, which included rolling around on the floor, which hadn't changed, and trying to see who can drink the most in ten minutes. Terry won.

By the time John, Jose, Panchito, Donald, and Launchpad arrived in the front room, the Motel 6 which was already a shitty place, was now looking like a frat house on a Thursday. Paper everywhere, yelling, screaming, techno music, and drunk people. Everyone in that Motel 6 was drunk, and I mean everyone. John and Luca ventured forward first, they wanted to see the damage first hand. When they got to George's room, it was certain what the hell was going on there. George was once again in his underwear, eating buffalo chicken wings, with Terry sitting in a chair looking like he was about to puke, and Jimmy passed on the floor. John looked down at Luca, "Go get Terry boy." He said. The dog walked through the room and like a service dog led Terry out of the room. John didn't even bother with Jimmy, and turned to George. "George," he said, forgetting the man's last name, "you are charged with kidnapping, public indecency, and attempted murder. Anything you do or say can and will be held against you in the court of law..." George cut him off, "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," he said, putting on some clean pants and a shirt, "but can we stop by a KFC first, I'm starving." He said, despite having a 12 piece original recipe bucket in his arm.

As John led George to his police car, Luca led Terry to the birds and followed his master. Launchpad looked Terry over and shook his head. "Come on buddy," he said, leading him out of the place, "let's get you cleaned up and to a safer, less creepy place." Terry nodded as he passed out. Jose helped Launchpad to John's police car, with George in handcuffs in the back and Luca next to him. Donald meanwhile looked at Panchito, "Oh my gosh, Daisy! I need to find her!" He said breathing quickly. "Calm down," Panchito said, "we're going with you now!" He said. Donald began to hyperventilate, "That's what I-I-I-I was afraid of!" He screamed struggling to catch his breath. Panchito grabbed the duck's shoulders, "Breath slowly," he said, "you're hyperventilating, just calm down and breath." The rooster instructed. Donald nodded and calmed down a little, "I have to do this on my own Panchito, I'm leaving for New York City today, and you're not coming with me." Donald said, Panchito nodded. "Entiendo amigo." He said, he hugged his friend, "Go get her back. Make me proud!" Donald nodded, "Don't worry, I'll be back, Panchito," he said letting go of the rooster, "I just need to do this by myself." He said, he waved and walked away heading for the nearest train station. Panchito sighed and watched him go, he pulled out a tissue from his pocket that he just so happened to have, he sniffled and cried a bit, "They grow up so fast!"


	20. Panchito Is Great With Kids

**Chapter Five: Panchito is Great with Kids**

The train station wasn't exactly near the airport. It was precisely three hours away from it. Donald took a taxi, and paid the driver the correct amount. $4,000. As the taxi driver drove off, Donald with his little suitcase stood in front of the train station. It was an old building from the 1880's, and it looked abandoned, but it was the only train that Donald could afford a ticket for. I know he just paid a guy four grand for a ride, but that was basically all of Donald's money. He was a desperate man who was desperately looking for his lady. His phone rang. "Hello?" He asked.

"Donald, where are you?" It was Daisy.

"I'm at the train station dear, I'm almost there, I'll be there by Friday."

"Oh good, because the fashion show is on Monday, so that'll give you time to settle in and do some sightseeing, you always wanted to see New York right?" She asked.

"Yeah," Donald said with a smile as the train pulled up. "I'll call you back later, my train's here."

"Alright Donald," Daisy said, "but remember, if you're late, I'm leaving you for good." Her voice was strict but sympathetic, a double edged dagger.

"Don't remind me." The duck said and hung up the phone.

The train pulled up slowly. It was one of those 20th Century Limited trains. It was the cheap cousin of the famous train. So not the good one. The track ran from Southern California to Dallas and back. _So at least_, Donald thought, _I'd made it about 1/3 of the way there by lunch time. _Then he remembered something, it was Thursday. The whistle sounded, it was high pitched and unnecessary. The conductor came off the train when it came to a stop. "All aboard!" He shouted. He was a jolly mid-twenties guy who was just trying to pay student loans and figured that conducting was a job that would last forever. "Well hello sir!" He said walking over to Donald. "Mind if I carry your bags?"

"Thanks but I think I can handle it." The duck said and the conductor showed him to his seat.

The interior of the train was red velvet. Original to the 1900's apparently when this train was commissioned. Donald was impressed by the woodwork, the authenticity of the one-hundred year old machine. "Wow," he said picking his seat which was one out of all of them because he was the only passenger. "This is impressive." The conductor, whose name was Wilkes smiled, "Thank you sir, I run a tight ship." He said and turned around, "Alright Barney, let her go!" The whistled sounded and the train left the station, very, very, slowly...

John drove Terry to the nearest Hampton, which was about a mile or so from the airport. He took George to jail, fed Luca, and drove home, not bothering to check up on the three birds who were still in the Motel 6 parking lot.

"So," Jose said walking over to Panchito, "I say we go get some lunch." Panchito nodded, "Si amigo, mi estómago se queja." He said with a laugh. "I'm in the mood for a nice burger." Launchpad said, his mouth watering. "Alright already, let's go!" Panchito pleaded, "You're making me want to eat a horse."

They walked down the sidewalk to a nearby Hardee's which was down the road. Opening the door they thought they had entered a maximum security prison. Everything was chrome, the shinny blinding, annoying metal that it a pain to pilots and drivers and loved only by semis. The birds looked at the menu, eyeing the colored pictures with great anticipation. "Let's see," Jose said, "I'm pretty hungry so I think I'll have the 2/3 Monster Thickburger." Panchito rubbed his stomach, he was so hungry that he really didn't care. "Okay," Panchito said turning to Jose and Launchpad, "I really don't care what I want, so tell you what I'm going to let you guys pick." Jose smiled, nudging Launchpad, "You'll eat it?" The parrot asked, looking at Launchpad with a sneaky smile. Launchpad chuckled to himself. "All of it?" The duck said, leaning towards the rooster. "Si, si, all of it! Hell, make it two of whatever it is. I'm that hungry!" Panchito said, confident that his friends would be loyal. But why would anyone do that right? Right?

"Okay amigos," Panchito said, closing his eyes and readying his hand. "Vamos!" He exclaimed as he randomly pointed to menu items. Jose and Launchpad watched Panchito's hand as he pointed. "Stop!" Jose said, smiling, satisfied with the selection. "Can I open my eyes now?" The rooster said. "Not yet," Launchpad said, "move your hand a little to the left."

"Okay." Panchito said, getting a bit giddy. "Oh boy this is fun!" He paused, "Can I open my eyes now?" He asked, getting a bit impatient. Jose and Launchpad laughed to themselves. "What's so funny?" Panchito asked. Jose motioned to leave the restaurant. Launchpad nodded and followed the parrot outside.

"This is going to be great!" Launchpad cried with excitement.

"Si!" Jose said, "still, I feel a little guilty, perhaps we should tell him?"

"Well," Launchpad looked back into the restaurant, Panchito's arm began to strain, and his face was sweating. "Oh alright, might as well fess up." He said, and he and Jose went back inside.

"Alright Panchito," Jose said, "you can put your arm down and close your eyes." Panchito did so, "Good my arm was starting to hurt." He rubbed it, "So," he turned around towards the menu, "what you guys pick for me eh?"

"Guess." Launchpad said.

Panchito smiled, "Let's see the Original Thickburger?"

"Nope." Launchpad answered shaking his head.

"Oh." the rooster replied, he put his finger on his chin, stroking it, putting some real thought into it, "Of course!" He turned to Jose, "It has to be the Six Dollar Buffalo Bleu Cheese!" He licked his lips, "Mi favorito!"

"Sorry, wrong again." said Jose with a spin of his umbrella.

"Alright, let's try one more time then," Panchito said as he began to stretch his neck as long as he could. He didn't even realize that he was doing it, he reached an impressive five feet from normal, his neck was so long that his head almost touched the ceiling, casting a shadow over the counter.

The cashier noticed this and looked up, her mouth agape. She rubbed her eyes, making sure that she wasn't seeing things. Nope. There above her was a rooster, with an extremely long neck reading the menu. Panchito strained his eyes as he discovered in really small unreadable print another menu item. "Oh, what's this?" He read the small lettering. "The Chicken Burger!"

"Can I help you sir?" The cashier asked, bending her neck back in order to see him. Panchito looked down and smiled, he laughed. "Oh, this is nothing senora." He laughed again, "I hope I'm not scaring you or anything?" The cashier shook her head. "Nope, just a little freaked out." Panchito laughed, "You know, you're very beautiful from up here, I bet no one has told you that." The cashier blushed a bit, "Nope, you'd be the first to tell me I'm pretty at all." She in fact was pretty, Panchito saw this, and smiled, "Well, you are, and don't let anybody tell you otherwise. If they do call me, I'll rough 'em a bit." He laughed. The cashier smiled, amused by the rooster's flirting. "Is there anything I can get for you sir?" She asked as sweet as possible. "Un momento por favor, watch this." Panchito said as he looked back at Jose. "Jose!" He called.

"Si Panchito?" asked the parrot.

"Delta Evasive Maneuver Cinco!" the rooster shouted.

Jose nodded, as he grabbed Panchito's torso and walked backwards. The rooster winked at the cashier, "Adios senora." He said, "May we meet again yes?" His neck began to pull against Jose who was pulling Panchito's body backward. Panchito pulled in the opposite direction, he had to in order for this to work. "Alright Jose!" Panchito called, just when it was turning painful and he was afraid that his neck would pop off from his body. "Let go!" Jose nodded and let go. Panchito's body quickly caught up with his head, as his body flew towards him Panchito braced himself for impact. It was harder than expected. His body hit his head so hard that he crashed right into the menu, his body flattening out like Willie E. Coyote when he gets crushed by a rock. Panchito groaned, "Oh, I think my beak is broken!" He said, as he slowly but surely began to fall from the wall. The cashier caught him in her arms, holding him like a baby. Panchito smiled as she pulled him in closer to her. Panchito hugged her and smiled, laughing a bit, "Sing me a lullaby." He said jokingly, the cashier gently let him go as Panchito hopped back over the counter. The cashier smiled, "You're pretty funny." She said, "What's your name?"

"Panchito Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González III" The rooster said at lightning speed, forgetting what country he was in for a moment. Usually when he says his full name Panchito gets a bit carried away. Old habits."But most people just call me Panchito, or Pistoles, my surname." Panchito smiled, being a bit egoistical. "What's yours?" He said. The cashier's eyes widened, "Um, I'm sorry," she said, a bit perplexed. The rooster laughed, "Do you want me to say it slower?"

"No." She said.

"Si? Okay," the rooster said with a 'I'm going to do this whether you like it or not' smile. The cashier groaned and rolled her eyes. "Panchito," the rooster said, saying every individual part of his name, hand motions included. For his first name he pointed to himself. " Romero," he flapped his arms, flying a bit, how anyone would get Romero from that I have no fucking idea. He's a mysterious fellow but I love him so that's all that counts right? "Miguel," Panchito landed and spread his arms out as he were swimming. "Junipero Francisco," he said these two together, for time's sake and the fact that he really couldn't think of any particular motion to do except the stereotypical chicken walk, kicking both feet back and bending down, portraying his species well. "Quintero González," he spun around, got on his knees, and held his arms as if he were confessing his love for the cashier, and in a creepy sort of 'love at first sight' kind of way he was. "III." He just held up three fingers. The cashier nodded, "So let me get this straight," she said, "Your name is Panchito Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González III?" She repeated every single motion to the letter, making a complete and total idiot of herself. But Panchito just laughed and applauded. "Muy bien!" He said standing up and positioning his arms on the counter. "So the order," he said, smoothing his cock on the top of his head, "I'll have the-" he turned back towards Jose who answered. "The Chicken Burger." Panchito nodded, "Gracias, two chi-" he stopped and paused. The cashier was about to ring up the order. "Two..." The cashier said, trying to lead him on. The rooster did a nervous laugh. "Un momento por favor." The cashier rolled her eyes as Panchito, very cartoony like took two steps towards his friends. "The hell is wrong with you guys, you're making me eat myself!" Jose hung his head, "Lo siento. You change it if you want."

"Yeah," Launchpad said, "you don't have to do it if you don't want to."

Panchito smiled, "You guys are assholes you know that." He turned back around and ordered his food. "Two Chicken Burgers please," Panchito said, "with extra jalapenos, and while you're at it," he paused thinking of something else, "do you have any Ghost Pepper extract by any chance?"

"Yeah," the cashier asked, "why you want some?"

"Pour the whole bottle." The rooster said.

"Okay, do you want me to call the paramedics?" The cashier asked. Panchito just stared at her, a 'really wow you are stupid' stare. "No offense to your intelligence, for you seem smart, but I'm a cartoon rooster, I can't necessarily die if you know what I'm saying."

"Cartoon characters can't die?" The cashier asked.

Panchito nodded, "Si, something called 'cartoon physics' you should read up on it sometime."

"I'll keep that posted." She said, as she ringed up the order. "That will be $10.50."

"Reasonable enough." Panchito said as he pulled out the correct dollar amount...in pasos. "Here," he said, "go buy yourself something nice." Panchito said with a smile as he walked away. "Um sir," the cashier said. "Si senora?" Panchito turned back around. "I can't accept this." She said. "What do you mean, it's money!" Panchito cried. "Oh, I see," the rooster said, reading her thoughts, "it's not 'American' currency. Well sorry but I ran out, I only have pasos left, lo siento."

"Yeah well," the cashier said with a sympathetic smile, "I'm sorry but I still can't take this."

"Alright, alright," Panchito said, with a smile, "how about this, why don't you close your eyes and pretend that it's all in nickels or something."

The cashier smiled, with a pity laugh, "Disney magic?"

"No, that doesn't exist, Disney magic, as you so put it, is a fucking marketing campaign that some rich guy in a business suit came up with to screw around with kids." Just then a family walked in, there was a little boy about seven years old, who had on, of all things, a Panchito shirt. The only kid in the world who knew who Panchito was and actually cared. Jose saw this and looked at the rooster, who was about to say something that Disney characters aren't allowed to say ever. Denounce their existence. This was a big red flag especially around children. He was about to warn him but it was too late, the rooster couldn't keep his big mouth shut. "Anyone who believe that a four foot talking mouse is real is stupid. Disney magic is a sham, a scrim. Only gullible people and children fall for that bullshit." Panchito said with a winning smile followed by a deep heavy laugh. Completely unaware that a kid was behind him, hearing every word.

"Is that true?" The kid asked.

Panchito cringed, his face froze up, he knew he fucked up, and he knew he fucked up big time. The rooster did the only thing he could do, turn around and face the kid. He was running through the possibilities, what he didn't want was a load of questions. He wanted to get out there, not stand there all day and lie. _"The truth? Well I basically said it and that raised a question so that's out. A lie? No, that'll make me feel guilty and this kid more arrogant. A mix? Eh, worth a shot. It's not technically lying if part of what you say is true."_

Actually Panchito, it's still lying. I butted into his thoughts.

_"Fuck off, it's my crisis, you stop procrastinating and write watch that Film video and read that Film Book you lazy bum! Stop writing me and start writing you know, useful shit." _Panchito smiled, and kneeled down, putting on his 'Hi, what's your name?' face. This quickly turned into the 'I just screwed my image' face real quick, for the rooster saw the boy's shirt. It was a white T-Shirt, with a graphic on it, Panchito smiling giving a thumbs up, standing in front of a Mexican background. Epcot. To make matters worse, the kid had a backpack on, the only Three Caballeros backpack ever made. Panchito looked at me. It wasn't necessarily a good look either. It was the look that people give when they realize that other people screwed them over. He whispered to me. "I'm going to kill you."

Sure you are. Now, go and fix this mistake that I made for you to- I mean, you made accidently. Panchito nodded and looked at the boy, with gentle fatherly eyes. The father, who was standing next to him, was looking pissed. The rooster saw this a gave a big smile. "Well," the dad said, "explain to my son the truth. The _real _truth, you know, since Disney Magic isn't real and all." Panchito sighed, looking at the father with pleading eyes, but thinking to himself, _"You're an asshole dude, you know full well that what I said was true."_ The father smiled knowingly. "Alright," Panchito said, "I will." He turned to the kid and smiled. "So," the rooster said, "if you could spend a day with anyone in the world, who would it be?"

"You." The boy answered. _"Of course it is."_ Panchito said, his heart breaking, emotion getting to the best of him, he started speaking Spanish rapidly, as if he were back home. He was about to speak but the kid cut him off. "You're my hero." Panchito was balling, "Really?" He squeaked. The kid nodded. "Yeah," the father said, "he thinks the world of you." Panchito nodded slowly, his emotions getting the best of him, he dried of his tears "Gracias amigo!" He said, shouting his head off, he'd never been admired or looked up upon before by anyone. "No te imaginas cuánto significa esto para mí. Tengo el menor número de aficionados en toda la creación y es genial ver que alguien me ama por quien soy." He moved his arms, animated and lively, excitment took over and he stood. Flying in the air a bit. He laughed, and continued, landing on the counter, "Esto significa un tanto para mí, no puedo agradecerte lo suficiente, no pueden expresar con palabras. Espero que los días son largos y fructíferos. Usted también tiene muy buen gusto!" Panchito pumped his chest as if he were taking on the world, finding new purpose. The kid and his father just stood having no idea what the hell he just said, the boy's mouth was hanging open, he never heard someone speak Spanish at literally six words per second. Panchito laughed and got off the counter. "In other words," he said, ruffling the kid's hair, "Thanks kid, hey, what's your name anyway?"

"Eddie. I already know yours."

"Really!" The rooster said, playing Mr. Obvious, "Tell what is it?"

"Panchito," Eddie said. The rooster closed his eyes with a smile and nodded hoping that he'd stop there like everybody else, but Eddie continued. " Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González III." He said, with no mispronunciation errors. Panchito opened his eyes and was very impressed. "Muy bien! No better, better words, Es fantástico que ser perfectos!" Eddie laughed, "Gee thanks, hey can I ask you a favor?"

Panchito nodded, "Sure, what is it?"

"Sing a song." Eddie asked.

"Any particular requests?" Panchito said, having a feeling that he would already know the answer.

"Yeah, "Eddie said, "Foster the People's Warrant." Panchito smiled, this kid also had a taste in music other than Disney songs. "Alright," he said. "Here it goes." He pulled out his guitar from his sleeve, which was magical, Panchito forgot about himself. Just then John came into the Hardee's locked and loaded. "Freeze!" He said, aiming his gun at the rooster. "Whoa, whoa hey!" Panchito said, "Dude, there are kids here man!" John nodded, "Yeah, don't worry I'm not going to shoot you. I was just informed that you committed arson. Something about Jesse Summers' house." Panchito sighed, "Who called it in?" John smiled, "You do you think?" Panchito stared at him, "Jesse? But how I kil- I mean, how?" He said, stopping himself from incriminating himself. "He apparently is in the hospital, said you tried to kill him, you burned down his house, and you fucked up the wife." John said. "Dude!" Panchito said, "Kids man!" John looked at Eddie, "Sorry kid force of habit." Eddie shrugged his shoulders, "Whatever, I don't fucking care." Panchito and John looked at Eddie with large surprising eyes. "Um wow," they both said, they looked at the father, "dude, what the heck is wrong with you!" The father smiled and laughed, "Television and kids these days right?" John and Panchito groaned, "That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard." They both said. "Si," Jose replied, "you have some problems amigo."

"Yeah," Launchpad added, "you need a shrink man."

"Whatever." The father said and ordered his food, blocking everything else. "Well anyway," John said, "you're under arrest." Panchito smiled, "Alright, fine, but first, a request." He tapped his foot to beat of the requested song "Warrant", he pulled out his guitar and started strumming the base line. Jose was the drums. Launchpad did the piano in da-da's. They got into formation and sang. Clapping at the drum beat. Panchito smiled, "Hey, Eddie, you know the words right?" Eddie smiled, nodded, and sang, rather well actually. It was impressive. This kid was like the next Justin Bieber, but you know, he could actually sing and wasn't Canadian so you know, that automatically makes him better. _"Well I've been judged I've been a bug unknown. I know all about it but my heart is strong."_ Panchito smiled, impressed with the kid, so he let him continue, _"I've been away been running to save my head. Yeah the warrant's out and I'm almost dead. I won't say what I've already said."_ Panchito took over, jumping to the center stage, so the middle of the room, getting carried away, looking at John with a smile, _"Got to get away. Yeah, the warrants on my head. Got to get away. They want me alive or dead. Got to get away. Yeah, the warrants on my head. Got to get away. They want me alive or dead."_ The rooster spun around and jumped on the counter, the cashier was bobbing her head, enjoying the music which was conveniently on the radio. She turned it up full blast. The kitchen duty began singing and drumming along too, flipping burgers and putting on toppings in perfect rhythm to the song. The cashier sang the next part, _"I've thought a lot about the way that they fight. Come through the phone lines, not man enough to face me."_ Panchito smiled and continued with the verse and chorus, _"I can stop or argue about what they say. Yeah the warrant's out and I'm not gonna pay. I said what I'm gonna say. Got to get away. Yeah, the warrants on my head. Got to get away. They want me alive or dead. Got to get away. Yeah, the warrants on my head. Got to get away. They want me alive or dead."_ Orders came up. Order up!" The cook called, beating his spatula to the drum beat. The waiters came up, dancing in rhythm with the rooster and parrot. Launchpad took the center stage with Eddie, as they ran towards the dining room area, they each stood on a table. Launchpad sung first, _"Fear is like a fake friend. It warms you up and takes you in. You mouth the words but no sound comes out!"_ Eddie smiled and did the second part of the verse, while Panchito and Jose helped gave out orders, in time with the music. Everyone was rhythmically moving and clapping as if it were a choreographed musical number. Think of the Cup Song. Got that picture. This is it. _"Fear is like your best friend. Manipulates and takes you in. You mouth the words. No sound again!"_

_"But you don't know better!"_ Launchpad sang.

_"You don't know better!"_ Eddie and Launchpad sang together. They jumped off the table and joined the other two birds as they all repeated the final four repeats of the chorus, _"Got to get away. Yeah, the warrants on my head. Got to get away. They want me alive or dead. Got to get away. Yeah, the warrants on my head."_ Everyone lifted their trays and spun around in their chairs, eating, laughing, and going along with the whole thing. The rooster and his companions walked towards the door, with John right behind him. Eddie stayed near the trash can and smiled. Panchito turned and tossed his sombrero, Eddie caught it and put it on his head, Panchito winked. _"Got to get away. They want me alive or dead. Got to get away. Yeah, the warrants on my head."_ Eddie and Panchito sang the last part, the rooster placing his arm around the kid as if he were a long lost friend or something. _"Got to get away. They want me alive or dead. Got to get away. Yeah, the warrants on my head. Got to get away. They want me alive or dead!"_ The song ended. Clapping and cheering. Eddie smiled as he handed the sombrero back to the rooster. Panchito gave a hardy laugh. "Keep it amigo! It's yours, besides," he reached his arm in his sleeve, pulling out the exact same hat. "I bought a spare." The rooster put on the spare sombrero and smiled. He laughed, "Este sombrero es muy especial para mí, yo estoy confiando en ti para mantenerlo. ¿Puedes hacerlo por mí?" Panchito asked. Eddie stood there, a bit confused. The rooster laughed again, waving his hand, hoping that subtitles would appear. They did. You're welcome Panchito. Eddie looked down and read the translation: _This hat is very special to me, I'm trusting you to keep it. Can you do that for me?_

Eddie smiled, "Why are you giving me this?" He asked.

"Because," Panchito said, lovingly as father, "you believe in me. I know what I'm about to say is corny, but it's true from the bottom of my crazy heart, you're the only I've seen who's really looked up to me. Why?" Eddie didn't really have answer, well he sort of did. "You're just the person I want to be like when I grow up, spontaneous, that free-spirit sort of thing." Panchito nodded, his face beamed with joy. "What do you want to be when you grow up eh?" The rooster asked. "Oh, I don't know, animator maybe." Panchito smiled and ruffled Eddie's hair as he stood. "¡Buena suerte!" The rooster shouted, puffing up his chest again, as if he were making some inspiring speech "Sé que hará bien!" He tipped his hat to the kid, who in turn tipped his, they both started on a handshake, the simple fist bump. "Wait," Panchito said, "I can never do this right." He met the boy's fist, once, then up, down, the hard part for him, for some reason was the last regular fist bump. He always ended up punching the other guy in the face. Accidently of course, but it still happened. Panchito just braced himself and waited for the sounds of crying or something like that. Eddie just laughed as the rooster held out his fist and lightly made contact, finishing the handshake. 'You can open your eyes now." Panchito did so and saw how ridiculous he looked. He laughed, "Gracias, senor!" He said with a bow, "Well," the rooster said, "best be off." He waved goodbye, completely forgetting to grab or eat his food, he didn't care, he just made a kid's day. Eddie waved back and watched his new friend get into the police car. He took the sombrero off his head and looked at it. Inside the hat was a small black and white picture of Panchito with Walt Disney, smiling and laughing over cigars and brandy. It was dated, December 5th, 1966, Walt's last birthday. Eddie noticed that Walt was smiling but his eyes told spoke of hurt and pain. Panchito was completely oblivious to Walt's health, but then again, everybody was. To the rooster, Walt was just showing his age and nothing more, he was still the same guy, the same boss, the same admirable person. Eddie wondered why Panchito would keep an old picture like that in his hat. He picked the picture up and turned it over. It had a note on it:

_Despite all the rumors you hear, Walt was still a good guy. A bit loco, crazy, ambitious, fun loving guy like me. No wonder I came out of his head! -P. P. _

Eddie smiled, and put the picture back in the hat where it was.


	21. The Point Where the Author Interrupts

**Chapter Six: The Point Where The Author Interrupts**

The birds got into John's police car. As he drove off, Panchito smiled, "So," he said looking at me, "where to?"

I don't know, I'm not supposed to reveal plot devices.

"What the hell is a plot device?" Panchito asked.

Don't worry, you'll see.

"So, John right?" Launchpad said looking at the police officer who nodded. "Yup, that's my name, don't wear it out." John said, "So, where are we headed, _really_?" The rooster asked, hoping that the police station comment was just a plot device. "The police station." John said. "Wait, so you weren't kidding when you said that you were taking me in?" Panchito asked. John shook his head, "Nope, you're wanted for attempted murder, arson, and sexual harassment." Panchito nodded, "Sexual harassment is a strong word isn't it?" He said with a smile. "Not if there's a victim." John replied. "Victim! Who's the 'victim'?" Panchito asked, air quoting victim. "Felicia Summers." Panchito sighed, "Well shit," he said, "did not see that one coming." John nodded, "You're going to be behind bars for a long time rooster." He said. "How long is long?" Panchito asked. "Oh, about forever."

"Un momento senor, I need to talk to someone real quick." Panchito said.

"Sure, whatever." John replied, not really caring, he would rather be focused on the road anyway.

"Excuse me senor," Panchito said looking at me, "but what the hell are you thinking?"

Writing your story Panchito.

"Yeah but really! You're sending me to jail! _Me!" _The rooster yelled. "After all we've been through this is how you're going to treat me! Some friend you are."

Ease up Panchito, I have a plan for everything, just chill alright.

"How about this," Panchito said, "I got a plan of my own, wanna here it?"

Not really.

"Too bad you're going to suffer dickhead. That's right, you're a dickhead. Lo siento senor but it's true. My life was fine without you! All I did was walk into work and stand in a line, but oh no, you just had to put me on an adventure didn't you. You just had to make me a target of everybody didn't you! Haven't you ever thought for once about me? You're a selfish bastard!"

Alright if that's how you feel, I guess you don't want to have a girlfriend.

"Girlfriend?" Panchito said, raising his eyebrows in interest.

Yeah, a girlfriend, she's your type too, but since you want out. I'll be Christof and let you go.

"Is she hot?" Panchito asked.

She no supermodel or anything but just you know, pretty, like all women are.

"Si, ¿Cuál es su nombre?" Panchito asked.

Nope, can't tell you that.

"Por que!" The rooster cried, wanting to know. "I deserve to know to you know! See, that's what I'm talking about, selfishness. That's what you are! You're a selfish asshole! I lost my job, my friends, all because of you!" He leaned out of the computer screen and got into my face. "You sir ruined my life!"

How do you think Terry feels. He lost his job, his girlfriend, his own house, because of you.

"That's different! We're not talking about that lonely shy nerd who can't find a sane person to date. That's his problem. We're talking about me!" Panchito said.

Oh and I'm the selfish one.

"Si, si you are, you know what, you're going on the list."

Panchito what list?

"Aha! See? There are some things that even you don't know. I got a little black book too." Panchito smiled, a 'I can play this game too' smile.

Panchito wrote my name down. "Let's see, um, senor, how do you spell specific?" I rolled my eyes, "Read your dialogue douchebag." I said. Panchito looked at me, a bit shocked. "Senor! I'm hurt, I really am, my little heart is breaking into little tiny pieces, my eyes are watering and my feet are numb, oh the pain of your voice saying those words. It pains me to say that I don't give a fuck!" Panchito screamed, flipping me off. "You are, I say again, an asshole! A fucking asshole!" Panchito nodded, satisfied with the insult.

Hmm..okay Panchito you win. I won't write this story anymore.

"Good," Panchito said.

"Now," the rooster said, turning back to John, "are you really going to do that to me, you're dear, sweet, friend." Panchito said, batting his eyebrows, he tried to gain extra sympathy points by sticking his lower lip out and trembling it a little. John looked back at him. "That's not going to work." He said, looking back at the road.

Hey Panchito.

The rooster rolled his eyes and looked up at the roof, "I already told you I'm not talking to you anymore!" He shouted.

"Panchito," Jose asked, "who are you talking too?"

Panchito ignored him, acting like Homer Simpson, pretending to strangle me.

"Panchito!" Jose said, trying to get the rooster's attention. "What is it Jose?" Panchito said with a rather annoyed sigh. "Who are you talking to?" The parrot asked

"The voice in the sky." Panchito said.

"God?" Jose asked.

"No, no, no, the voice! He's telling our story!" Panchito said.

"Right!" Jose said, smiling, thinking to himself, _"Wow, he's lost it."_

Panchito sighed in aggravation, he reached in his shirt and pulled out the script. He flipped and flipped until he found out what he was looking for. "Ah, here it is!" He exclaimed with excitement pointing his finger to the _Trauma, Drama, and Melodrama _chapter.

What are you doing?

"Fixing your mistake." Panchito said with a smile

What mistake is that.

"You were going to let me be the only one to hear or see you. Well you can't!" Panchito shouted to me, but to everyone else, it was just nothing but the window.

What are you talking about?

"See, look, let's go back a bit shall we?" Panchito said. He read grabbed a pen and wrote, _they went back in time a few months when Jose and Donald arrived..._

There was a beam of light. The car disappeared. Launchpad disappeared, everything went backwards in extreme rewind right up to when Jose and Donald fell through the roof. "See," Panchito said, looking at me for I was standing next to him in Tina's room. We were in white halos, like angles for some reason. Panchito looked me over and wasn't necessarily impressed with me. He shook his head and turned his head back towards the scene. The roof collapsed and Jose and Donald appeared. They were carrying suitcases and such things and quickly scrambled to the floor, seeing their friend underneath the roof, electrical wires, and drywall. "Donal'!" Jose called, "get a bucket of water or something quick!" Donald nodded and quickly exited the room. Jose meanwhile tried to pull Panchito out of the roof. The Panchito that stood next to me pulled out his script again and flipped a page. In an instant, his proof was there.

_"No," Panchito said getting off the bed, "it's just you're always high stung is all." He stretched. "Entonces, ¿qué están haciendo aquí eh?" The rooster asked looking at his friends. Donald and Jose, who knew only little Spanish, looked at the camera as if there was one. _

_"Hey writer." It was Donald. _

_Yes?_

_"Subtitles por favor." Jose asked. _

_Sure. So, what are you guys doing here eh? _

_"Oh, okay," Donald said, "thanks." _

_No problem, now can I get back to my work please?_

_"Wait, I'm not finished I still want to-" Jose asked, curious. It was getting on the writer's nerves. So if the parrot doesn't stop talking the writer will kill him off. Very violently. _

_"Shutting up now." Jose said._

Panchito closed the script. The scene went away, like a popped bubble. We stood in a white empty space. "See, you can't do that. You're contradicting yourself." The rooster said to me. "Alright, alright," I said, admitting that I was wrong, "but what should have Jose do?" Panchito stopped and thought for a moment, "Let's see, how about Launchpad says something like, 'Yo, Panchito, you schizophrenic?' I'll reply with something witty and charming." The rooster smiled. I looked at him, "Whatever, just do you job if you want to get paid." Panchito laughed, "You don't pay me senor." I nodded, "Panchito, remind me to pay you later." The rooster cleared his throat, "Um senor..." I could tell where this was going, I smiled, "Nice try. Now get out of here." Panchito saluted casually and laughed fading away as if he were metaphorically dying.

Panchito returned to his seat in the police car. "Panchito!" Jose called. The rooster looked over, "What is it Jose?" He said, feeling a sense of déjà vu. "Who are you talking to?"Jose asked. "Um..." Panchito said twiddling his thumbs. "I don't know."

"Oh, well, what were you talking about?" The parrot asked. "Oh, Nothing Really Specific." Panchito said with a smile and a wink. Thanks for the nod bro! Panchito nodded, "De nada." He whispered. "What was that?" Jose said. "Nothing Really Specific Jose, Nothing Really Specific." Panchito said with a knowing smile. The parrot nodded, "Okay, but you were talking to yourself."

"Maybe he's schizophrenic, yo Panchito, you have schizophrenia?" Launchpad asked. "Does that question really need to be asked?" John said with a laugh as he pulled into the police station. Laughter. Amusement. Moving on...

The train moved slowly, as in, Donald could still see the station. The duck sighed and waited, Wilkes looked at the duck with awe and perplexity as if he'd never seen a duck before. "So," Wilkes asked, "you're going to New York City to save your relationship with Daisy, and you're going by _train_?" He said trying to piece everything together. Donald nodded, "Yeah, I sort of kinda got a reputation at the airport."

"Really?" Wilkes said with a smile interested, "Do tell."

"Let's just say it involves Michael Jackson." Donald said.

Wilkes laughed, "Smooth criminal." He chuckled.

"Oh so you know!" Donald smiled.

"I'm sorry what do I know?" Wilkes asked.

"You just said, oh never mind." Donald replied.

The train whistle sounded. Barney put some more coals and sent the train into full speed a whopping twenty miles an hour...whoopee.


	22. Phone Calls from Jail- Part 2

**Chapter Seven: Phone Calls from Jail-Part II**

**There are a few cameos in this one. I'm going to do this from time to time, let me know if I should keep some, get rid of some or add some new ones. I just love cameo comedy so I'm going to use it and eventually the cameos are going to be major characters. It won't be a crossover though cause the majority of the characters will be Disney. The cameos are there to show that other cartoon characters/characters exist. Think of _Who Framed Roger Rabbit_**

Terry was sleeping comfortably in his bed. His clean, comfortable bed that wasn't straight from hell. He didn't have a roommate, a first for him in months. So he was happy to be alone, he did miss Tina though. Terribly.

People always asked him why he was with her. "Come on Terry," he father once told him, "you can do better than a crazy psychopath." Terry always answered the same, "Well, I love crazy people, they make my life interesting." If that was the case, Terry should be having the time of his life right now, but he wasn't. He missed his crazy Neo-Nazi narcissistic murderous girlfriend, because there was nobody in the world that was like her, he was her crazy Neo-Nazi and he loved her for it in a weird sort of way.

"It's okay Terry," he said, turning on the TV, "she's in a better place now." He lied to himself, he knew where Tina was. To get his mind off her, Terry watched some TV, of all things, _The Twilight Zone_ was on.

"She's not a robot!" A man was screaming. Apparently back in 1959 people had a different pronunciation of the word, robot. "Robit" is a word, how the hell did these people survive. It was the episode where a convicted criminal named Corey was sentenced to solitary confinement on an asteroid. Every three months a kindly Captain and his men would bring supplies, well, one day they brought him a robot that looked like a robot and well, you can pretty much figure out the rest. The episode's name was "The Lonely".

_How appropriate. _Terry thought, because he was basically Corey. Wallowing in his misery alone. Just then his phone rang.

"Senor Terry!" It was the rooster.

"Fuck off, leave me alone." Terry said in annoyance and aggravation. He motioned to hang the phone up.

"No wait, don't hang up!" Panchito said. "Can I ask a favor es muy rápido, por favor?"

"What is it Panchito?" Terry asked.

"Can you bail me out?" He said.

Terry laughed, "Bye." He hung up the phone.

Panchito sighed, "Well shit." John came up behind him, "Alright, that was your phone call, come on, back to your cell." He said, pulling Panchito away from the phone. The rooster pulled with all his strength, "Just," John pulled hard, "one," Panchito clung to the phone, but John still held on, "Alright," John said, "you asked for this." He said as he pulled and tugged using his inner wrestler strength. The rooster still held the phone and dialed another number. "Ahola Senor!" He said, on the other line was a relative. "Yes, I'm in jail again." Muffled voices. Panchito rolled his eyes, "No, I'm not a drug dealer anymore!" Muffled voices continued. "Just pick me up Vito!" He screamed. Just then the phone cord snapped, sending the rooster and the phone he carried backwards. The phone hit Panchito in the eye. "¡El maldito dolor, que va a contusión más tarde!"

Terry breathed easier now that that rooster wasn't bothering him anymore. _To be honest,_ Terry thought, _it he really that bad? _His phone rang again. Terry rolled his eyes. _Yep, he is. _

"What!" He shouted.

"Geez, someone's in a bad mood." It was Jose

"Oh, it's you Jose, sorry I thought you were Panchito again."

Jose laughed, putting on a nicotine patch and pulling out a cigar, he lit it. "He's a trip yes?"

"Yeah, a real fall down the stairs," Terry smiled at his corny joke, but Jose laughed anyway. "Hey listen," Terry said, "I'm going to need some of that coffee and a cigar, I'm think I'm going through major depression."

"What!" Jose exclaimed, "Don't worry, senor, I'm here for you, and I'll get you that as soon as I can alright?" He said, being a bit jumpy to conclusions. Jose had dealt with this situation before, his brother, Ulisses was suicidal, he left a note, Jose tried everything he could to help him, therapy, talking to him, counseling, socializing, travelling, even spiritual guidance, but nothing worked. He just kept on getting deeper and deeper into depression and eventually he jumped into Rio de Janerio harbor and drowned. Jose tried to pull him out but it was too late. He was dead.

"Don't worry Jose," Terry said, "I'm not suicidal."

"If you need a shoulder to cry on, I'm here for you senor." The parrot said.

"Thanks Jose, that means a lot." Terry sniffled, he really needed someone to talk to. He cried a little. Jose smiled, "Oh it's not that bad now is it?" He said. "No," Terry said, "it's not."

"We'll talk okay?" Jose said with a smile on his face. His expertise was service, his heart was a gold brick. "When would be a good time?" Terry said, "Cause, I really need to talk right now." He said. Jose nodded and turned around, a huge line was behind him, full of criminals, petty thieves, murderers, rapists, etc. all looking at him with a glaring eye. If the wasn't a guard nearby Jose would be beaten to a pulp for taking so long. "Sure," Jose said looking nervously at the line. "just as soon as you bail me out."

"Wait, you're in jail too?"

"Si," Jose said with a slow nod, "hurry Terry, I don't want to spend the night here. It's scary as hell and I don't want to go to the doctor in the morning."

"Why would you go to the doctor in the morning?" Terry asked.

A snarling man who had rabies, AIDS, who was convicted for being a complete and total asshole and dick to the community looked at Jose as if he were about to rape him. Jose squeaked, "Hurry please, I don't want to be a sister!" Jose screamed.

"Just take it easy Jose," Terry said.

"Terry!" Jose screamed, he was being pulled by his legs away from the phone, "Call my family and tell him that their Jose is sorry for everything he has ever done."

"Are you dictating your will?" Terry asked.

"Si! Now go before I-" Jose was cut off, he was pulled away from the phone, he flew backwards into the crowd of inmates. A brawly man that was behind him picked up the phone, he breathed slowly. "If you want to see your pet again," he said, "I suggest you post his bail."

"He's not my pet," Terry said, "He's my friend."

"Oh," the brawly man said, "you need to get a life."

Terry took a deep breath and exhaled, he was about to pull a movie quote, "I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let the parrot go now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you." He said.

"Isn't that from _Taken_?" The inmate asked.

Terry sighed, "Yes that was from Taken, but you get the point right?"

"Yeah," replied the inmate.

"Goodbye then." Terry said.

"Fuck off." The inmate hung up the phone and walked away, completely forgetting his own phone call.

Terry put his phone back in his pocket. He was about to get up and leave when the news came on, and guess who was on there.

"Earlier today at a local Hardee's, a shunned Disney character trio performs live for a little boy named Eddie." It was Duke Wales, it always was. He was standing with a hypocritical smile on his face. Eddie was right next to him. "So," Duke said leaning the microphone to Eddie's level, "can you tell me about the experience?" Eddie nodded. "Sure," he said still wearing Panchito's sombrero , "I met my favorite cartoon characters today." Eddie smiled and waved, "Thanks guys!" Duke nodded, "What song did they sing for you?"

"Warrant by Foster the People." Eddie replied. "Wow," Duke said a bit surprised, "that's odd, why would they sing that?"Eddie shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, but it was cool. I sure hope they're okay, they left in a police car."

"A police car?" Duke smiled, thinking to himself _"Ratings, ratings, ratings."_ which was quickly followed by _"Promotion, promotion, promotion."_ Duke looked at the camera and put on his best face. "Well, there you have it folks, rouge Disney characters." He said. Eddie kicked him, "No they're not!" He shouted, "They're just misunderstood is all." Duke laughed a bit, and forgetting that he was on camera grabbed Eddie's shirt and pulled him up. "Listen to me you little prick," he said with force, "I personally don't care if what you're saying is true, I just want my ratings and my promotion get it, and if that means I have to bullshit then I'm going to and you're going to play along alright?" He gave the creepy villain smile. Eddie looked at him with a bit of fear in his eyes, Duke squeezed the boy's shirt tighter. "Stop it!" Eddie cried. Duke laughed a bit and let go, he then grabbed the sombrero from the kid's head. "Hey!" Eddie screamed, "Give it back," tears were falling down his face, "please don't." Duke placed the hat on his own head and started very incorrectly the Mexican Hat Dance. It was almost, no, it was a racist performance. The camera still rolled.

The police station was like a jail. In fact it was, it was just given the rather misleading name of police station. So anyway, Panchito sat in his cell, Launchpad was his cellmate. Jose was next door, his cellmate was a drunk who was always passed out on the floor, which he currently was. The other inmates started coming back to their cells for the day, it was starting to get late anyway. The guards started coming in. "Alright everybody lights out!" He screamed. All of the lights went off at the same time, except for the two cells with the birds. The guard walked over, he was tall, scary, and very tired so he didn't really want to deal with any foolishness. "Alright guys," he said, "lights out." Launchpad and Jose walked over to their respected switches and turned off the lights. Everyone was quiet. The television could be heard. _"Please stop!"_ It was Eddie's voice. Panchito looked over and saw from between the jail bars a small desk with a television. He squinted and saw the display. Duke was stomping on the sombrero, when he was finished he kicked it to the side. Eddie was left crying his eyes out. "He gave me that hat!" He said between tears. "Oh boo-hoo kid." Duke replied with a smug look on his face. "I'll buy you a cheap one at Wal-Mart." He said. Eddie shook his head, "It wouldn't be the same," Duke walked away. "Turn the camera off." He said. The cameraman did nothing, "I can't do that sir, you just showed the whole world how much a dick you are." He replied. "I did?"

Panchito smiled, "Senor," he looked up at the guard, "I need to make an emergency phone call." The guard laughed, "You already had your phone call today." Panchito nodded, and motioned for the guard to lean in. He did so. The rooster grabbed his collar. "Listen to me you palooka, I'm about to get really pissed off, and believe me you don't want that." The guard smiled, "You'll be going to federal if you do anything to me you know that?" Panchito smiled, "Does it look like I give a fuck about that? I need to make a phone call to settle something, either you let me, or I'll do it myself, and I don't give a shit if you pull me and beat the tar out of me while I'm doing it but I'm making that phone call!" The guard nodded and unlocked his cell. Panchito exited.

"Hey!" One of the prisoners said, "how come he gets to get out?"

The rooster looked over, "Because at this point I don't give a fuck." He flipped him off. The prisoner said nothing.

Panchito walked over to the phone with the guard right behind him. The rooster dialed the news station's number. It rang three times.

"Hello?" It was Frank, Duke's stand in.

"Ahola Senor," Panchito said with a smile, "can I speak to Wales please?"

"Sure." Frank said, he looked into the camera, "This ought to be good."

Frank connected the rooster to Duke who was still on the air. "Duke," Frank said, "you have a caller." Duke nodded, "Thanks Frank," he said, pressing a button on his earpiece. "Hello?" He said.

"Put me on speaker por favor."

Duke nodded and did so.

"Ahola Senor," Panchito said. Eddie's face beamed. "Panchito!" He smiled. "Eddie!" Panchito cried with joy, "Has this guy been bothering you?" He said. Eddie nodded, "Yeah, he ruined your sombrero."

"That's okay, what matters is, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be alright." Eddie said. "Thanks for calling."

"No hay problema, anytime you need me." Panchito said, "Now, to Senor Wales." He paused. "I suggest you apologize before I blow your head to kingdom come you selfish egotistical bastard! Nobody, and I mean nobody talks to my amigos that way. I am very close to coming over there and beating you to a pulp you heartless piece of shit. But I am currently preoccupied."

"Are you in jail?" Duke asked.

"Does it matter?" Panchito replied, "And even if I am what difference does it make, I'm still coming after you and it will be with some friends."

"Really?" Duke smiled, "Who?"

"I'm fucking William Wallace bitch! I have an army to beat you down, you best bring the entire population because even then you won't be able to stop me. I am not a happy rooster, and you are officially on my list of People I Hate Enough to Kill, with you being the only entry. If you do any shit like this again, I swear to you, I will hunt you down and go Liam Nesson on your ass!"

Duke's face grew pale. "Are you serious?"

"Does it sound like I'm playing with you!" Panchito screamed, "I am going to find you, and I will most definitely kill you if you try this again do you understand me?"

"Yes." Duke answered, he was visibly shaking.

"Yes sir damn it!" Panchito yelled. Like Ed Rooney from Ferris Bueller, Duke started to stutter, "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes sir!" He said. Panchito hung up the phone.

The rooster turned and saw the guard who's mouth was hanging open. "Are you serious?" He asked. Panchito smiled and patted his shoulder as he walked back towards his cell, "Todos a debido tiempo senor, todos a debido tiempo." The guard just watched him in awe, noticing that the rooster walked with a bit of a skip-jump, as if he were planning a dance routine. In fact he was. Panchito was in truth, looking around for means of escape, he wasn't going to sit there and do nothing after watching that horrible display. _After I deal with that, I going to go find Donal', I'll show that he needs me. He's a nervous wreck without me...I bet he's sitting there on that train, wishing I was there. _Panchito thought with a small laugh, it was then he began to whistle the opening chords to _Band on the Run_.

Donald was still on the train, they were moving through the mountains now, the Sierra Nevada's. Very, very, very, slowly. "Wilkes," Donald said. "How much longer 'til we get to Dallas?" He asked. Wilkes shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, I'd say we'll be there by Monday." Donald smiled, "I have to be there in three hours Wilkes, my girlfriend is leaving and we're just now getting into the Sierra's!"

"Well," Wilkes said, "you picked the slowest train in the country."

Donald nodded. "Is there any way to get this train moving any faster."

"Well you could always just do what Toad did." A voice from behind Donald said. The duck turned and saw Ratty sitting there with a pipe. He smiled, "Hello Mr. Duck." Donald smiled, "How did you get here?" He asked. Rat shrugged, "The train was moving so slow I just hopped on."

"But didn't you and Cyril go back to England?"

Rat nodded, "We were there for five minutes, then we remembered why the hell we left." He blew out some pipe smoke, he offered it to Donald, Donald refused it. "Well, anyway," Rat said tapping the tobacco out and putting some more in. "it's a complete shithole on the river. It's polluted. Toad Hall is in shambles, and everyone is basically dead anyway."

"Geez, I'm sorry." Donald replied. "Don't be!" Rat said with a smile, "They were all old geezers anyway, at least they died before everything went to hell."

"So, you mentioned do what Mr. Toad did?" Donald asked.

"Yes," Rat said, he stood and walked down the aisle towards the engine room. Donald followed. "Basically," Rat said opening the door, "you just put-" he looked towards the engineer who was passed out drunk. "Oh dear." He said. "Come Donald," he walked over to Barney, who was smiling in his gin, "help me lift him." Donald nodded and they put him in the back row of the passenger car. When they reached the engine room, Wilkes walked in, "What are you guys doing?" He asked. "We're moving right along." Rat said with a smile and extended hand, "Walter Rat." He said introducing himself. "Wilkes." The conductor said. "Now, I should warn you, she's a slow machine, she's not built for speed but for comfort." Wilkes warned. "We'll keep that in mind." Rat said with a reassuring smile and Wilkes walked out not really caring.

As if their lives depended on it, Donald and Rat were shoveling the coal with their hands like dogs in the furnace. The train slowly pushed on, the little engine was pumping furiously, going over the maximum speed of twenty in thirty seconds. Thirty. Forty. Fifty. Sixty miles per hour. Faster and faster they heaved and shoveled, forcing the train to go up and over the mountains as if it were a rollercoaster. They were finally getting somewhere.

Terry went to the bank and took one thousand dollars for bail money. As he got back in his car, he counted the money and once he was satisfied he drove off towards the police station.

John sat in the front desk, _Pulp Fiction_ was on again. John was reciting Samuel L. Jackson's part. Every. Single. Line. It was pretty impressive and somewhat sad at the same time. Just as it was getting to the famous "What?" scene, Terry entered. He looked like shit, he basically was, he had really slept in a few days and it was getting late. He just wanted to go back to his hotel and sleep, but he had to post bail for people that he had little sympathy for. Life is essentially a bitch.

"Hey John," Terry said. John looked up at him, prying his eyes from the television for a moment, "You here to post their bail?" He said. Terry nodded. "Two thousand for all three." He said. "I only have a grand." Terry replied. "Well that'll get you two of 'em out." Terry smiled, "Alright, Jose and Launchpad." He said. John nodded, "You made the right choices." He stood up, grabbed a large set of keys and walked over to the cells.

"Get up you guys." John said to the two cells with the birds. He looked at Jose and Launchpad, "You guys are in luck, you posted bail." John said. They all smiled and sighed, "But he could only afford for two of you." The birds did a community groan. "Who came?" Launchpad asked. "The only person who you give a damn." Terry said with a slight smile as he walked towards the cells. "Terry!" They all cried with joy, happy to see him. "Hey guys," Terry said, "Aright, Jose, Launchpad, you guys are free to go." John opened the cells and the two birds stepped out. John then quickly closed the cell doors again, leaving the rooster.

"What about me?" Panchito asked, feeling a bit left out, his heart a bit heavy. "Sorry Panchito," Terry said with a 'I really don't care' shrug of the shoulders. "I only have enough to post for these guys. You're just going to have to wait." Panchito smiled as he removed his hat, looking as innocent as possible. "Por favor." He said.

"No." Terry replied.

Panchito took a step forward, "Por favor."

"No."

"Por favor?"

"No."

"Por favor?"

"No."

"Por favor?"

"No, what part of that don't you understand!" Terry screamed. Panchito smiled slyly, "Porque?" He said.

"I don't know what that means." Terry said.

"Oh, then say no se." Panchito instructed. Terry nodded. Thanks.

"Porque?" Panchito began again.

"No se." Terry replied .

Panchito laughed, "No, no, no senor! You only say no se if you don't understand something, when I say porque this time, then you'd reply with _Porque yo dije_, which means because I said so. Then we'll be starting a conversation. You know, like speaking Spanish." Panchito cleared his throat, "So," he paused. "¿Por qué no lo puesto mi libertad bajo fianza?"

"Whoa, wait, now I feel like that you're screwing with me here, I have no idea what you just said!" Terry shouted a bit confused. Panchito looked at the readers and raised his eyebrows twice, he looked back at Terry. "Lo siento, mis disculpas." He paused for a moment. "I said why won't you post my bail?"

"Because I don't have the money and I hate you." Terry said.

"Then say, Porque no tengo dinero y yo te odio, come on Terry, Spanish is not that hard!" Panchito cried.

"Are you kidding!" Terry shouted, he motioned towards me, "He's copying off SpanishDict for crying out loud!"

Panchito gasped, surprised. "Senor!" He looked at me, "are you serious?"

Um...yeah, I don't know Spanish so I go to people who do.

Panchito nodded his head, accepting, "Whatever, no big deal, I forgive you for now. But you're still on the list."

Not this again.

"Si, this again." Panchito smiled, "I'm just joshing with you man!"

Focus please.

"Lo siento." Panchito said, he turned back towards Terry. "Now," he inhaled, "please get me out of here! I don't want to be Andy!"

"I don't understand that reference." Terry said.

Panchito slapped his hand on his face in disbelief, he took a ridiculously long sigh. _Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!_ He took a deep breath. "Dude," he said, looking down in shame, not believing that Terry hadn't seen that movie. "Go home, get on Netflix, and watch _The Shawshank Redemption_."

"Okay, what's it about?" Terry asked.

Panchito looked at Jose, "Jose,"

"Si Panchito?" The parrot asked.

"Hit him!" Panchito ordered.

Jose nodded and did so, hitting Terry backhanded, making a red mark. "Um, ow!" Terry complained. "Lo siento senor." Jose replied. Terry looked at him. "Do you follow him?" He asked. "No," Jose said pulling out a cigar. "your face is like a pitiful punching bag."

"Oh gee, thanks." Terry said sarcastically.

"You may not realize it when it happens, but a kick in the teeth may be the best thing in the world for you." Jose replied. "Really?" Terry asked looking at him with an annoying glare. "Hey," Jose said taking a drag, "got pull my boss a plug." He looked up as if at the sky. "God rest his soul."

"You're looking the wrong way." Terry said.

The three birds stood silent and looked at Terry, "Dude," Launchpad said, "that hurt."

"Yeah," Jose said pulling out a tissue, "he was good guy."

"Si," Panchito said taking off his sombrero again, looking for his picture. "look I-" nothing. "Oh yeah," he said remembering that the picture was in his other hat which was stomped to basically nothing at the Hardee's floor. He put his sombrero back on. "Anyway," Panchito said, "please let me out."

"I already told you no!" Terry said getting in the rooster's face. Panchito shrunk back and nodded, looking like a scared little kid. "Alright, geez, message received. But why do you hate me?" He asked. Terry sighed. "I honestly don't know, I just do," he paused, "you can't expect everyone to like you, you know." Panchito nodded, "Si, I know but I'm not trying to make you like me, I don't expect you to, I want to like me only if you do, if you don't that's fine, but we're still roommates." He extended his hand, wanting a handshake. Terry shook his head and walked out. Panchito sighed and watched Jose and Launchpad leave. "Jose?" He said. Jose turned around. "What is it?" He asked. "Find Donald si?" Jose smiled, "Maybe he doesn't need us anymore Panchito, let's face it." He took a drag of his cigar, "it's over." His cell phone rang, he picked it up.

"Hello?" Jose asked.

"Jose!" Donald screamed, "I need you guys, right now, we're going to die!"

"Wait, what, hold on, what are you talking about?" Jose asked.

"What's going on?" Panchito asked.

"It's Donald," Jose said putting the phone down for a moment.

"Jose!" Donald screamed, "we are about to be the Donner Party here!"

"Mr. Carioca!" Rat screamed in the background, "It might be an opportune time to get us out of here!"

"Settle down, you're both screaming at once!" Jose screamed, ironically. "Just hurry," Donald said, calming down, "we're in the Sierra Nevada's, about thirty minutes from Vegas."

"Alright," Jose said, "I'm on the way, don't die alright?"

"Can't make any promises." Donald said and hung up the phone.

Jose put his phone back in his pocket. "What's going on!" Panchito asked again, "Is he in trouble?" Jose nodded, "Yeah, well, you were right, he needs us." Panchito smiled, "I told you! Now, get me out of here!" Jose nodded, "Alright, just hold on," he looked left and right, John went back to watching his movie and no one was watching. Jose reached up in his sleeve, feeling around for something, hoping that he had something useful. He pulled out a yellow raft, a spare tire, a cooler, a lawn chair, a beach ball, a Hummer, a dove, seven pigeons, a magicians scarf that was eighty feet long, a water hose, a boom box, a cat, a dog, a fish, a grill, a tent, a bag of marshmallows, a bear cub, a maple tree, a park ranger, a speedboat, a volleyball, a net, a badminton set, sand, a chainsaw, a Jason mask, a streetlamp, a mouse, a wardrobe, some snow, a fog machine, a guitar, Slash from Guns n' Roses, every single member of the Beatles, an actual beetle, an Egyptian gold piece, a pharaoh's headdress, a copy of the Ten Commandments tablets, a Gutenberg Bible, Gutenberg himself, a Crusader, Tomas Torquemada, Richard the Lionheart, Robin Hood, Prince John, and finally Puss in Boots.

Panchito's eyes grew large. "Okay, you are obviously a hoarder."

Jose smiled, "What can I say right?"

Puss looked at him, "Do you know how long I've been in there?" He asked.

"Since 2011?" Jose answered. "Si, since 2011. Way too fucking long!" He walked out. "Lo siento Senor Puss!" Jose called. "Whatever." Puss turned towards Panchito, "I have a feeling that I'll be seeing you again, so look for me alright?" He said with a smile. "Of course amigo!" Panchito said, "Do you have a Facebook?" Puss nodded. "Hit me up sometime, we'll have lunch." Panchito suggested. The cat smiled, "I'd like that, now," he said with a bow, "I must be off."

"Where are you going?" Jose asked.

Puss smiled, "No se!" He shrugged his shoulders and walked out.

The train sped up and down the mountains uncontrollably. It also began to snow. "We're going to die!" Donald screamed into his cell phone, he called Terry. "Just hold on Donald," he replied, taking hold of the situation, "just don't freak out."

"I believe that time has already passed!" Rat screamed as they bumped around in the engine like clothes in a washing machine.

"GUYS!" Wilkes screamed. "What the hell is going on!" His screaming was a high pitched falsetto.

"Is that a little girl back there?" Terry asked.

"Nope that's a twentysomething conductor who still hasn't gone through puberty!" Donald said. "Just find us alright, I need to get to New York!"

"Alright Donald, alright, we'll find you." Terry said reassuringly

"We?" Donald asked.

"Yeah, me, Jose, and Launchpad." Terry said, still standing near the desk, he was engrossed in _Pulp Fiction_. "Speaking of Jose, what is he doing?" He put the phone down.

"Terry?" Donald said, "Hello, what are you doing!"

Terry walked back towards the cells. "Tell him that I'll call him later." He said. Launchpad nodded and picked up the phone. "He'll call you back later Don," he said. "Later, I probably won't be alive later! I need to-" Donald screamed but Launchpad hung up before he could finish.

"Alright," Jose said turning to King Richard, "Richard do you have a crossbow?" He asked. "Of course sir!" Richard said enthusiastically grabbing it. "Can you shoot the lock?" The parrot asked. Richard nodded, "Certainly," he turned to Panchito, "you might want to stand back." He said. Panchito backed up to the wall and flinched and held up the unclean symbol just in case Richard missed because holding your fingers in a cross symbol prevents anything from coming near you. Richard fired, the crossbow arrow hit the lock dead on. "Gracias Senor Richard!" Jose exclaimed as he used the arrow as a lockpick. _Click._ The lock was picked, Jose opened the door. Panchito walked out with a smile on his face, he turned to Richard and bowed in respect. "Muchos gracias Senor Richard, may your reign last for-"

Richard screamed. A knife was in his back, he fell over and Prince John, er King John now, stood with a weird little smirk on his face. He laughed. "Now I shall be King!" He cried. Suddenly an arrow pierced John's head, Robin Hood laughed as John fell over. "Freedom for all!" He shouted and started going towards every single cell, picking the locks. The inmates were asleep so they didn't notice. Tomas Torquemada meanwhile was torturing prisoners as Robin Hood unlocked the doors, screaming his head off and telling them to repent their sins. "If you don't," Tomas said, "I'll be forced to use force!" The inmate he was interrogating smiled and laughed, "Fuck off man, I'm trying to get some sleep." Tomas pulled out a whip and started hitting him with it. Suddenly Puss in Boots came back, for he had circled around, noticing Tomas when he appeared and started sword fighting with him. "Ha ha!" Puss cried, "You will never be able to outsmart me!" He said and the two began to go back and forth, Tomas with the whip, Puss with the sword and Robin Hood just picking locks. Slash was looking on with the birds, having no fucking idea what was going on. He turned to the Hummer then to the parrot. "Hey do you have the keys to that Hummer?" He asked. Jose nodded and fished around in his pockets for the keys. Once he found them he pulled them out. "Here," he said. He was about to give them to Slash but quickly pulled them away, "On one condition." Jose said. "What's that?" Slash said. "You have to help us find Donal'" Slash thought about it for a moment, "Donald as in Donald Duck right?" Jose nodded. Slash shrugged his shoulders, "Alright, hell, it might be fun." He said and got into the Hummer. Jose and Panchito got in the back seat. Slash started the engine and honked the horn, waking everyone up. "Hey!" He said turning to Terry, John, and Launchpad, "get in." The three of them looked at each other, smiled, simultaneously did a little dance, and said, "Road trip, road trip, road trip!"


	23. You Might Have Penguin AIDS

**Chapter Eight: You Might Have Penguin AIDS**

** I promise this chapter title will make sense at the end. Also, I highly recommend that you listen to "The Winter Song" by The Head and The Heart. It's the song that Donald and Daisy sing towards the end of this chapter. It's a beautiful and sad song about saving a relationship, so it fits well with the story. Enjoy :)**

**Remember this is on what I think on what a sequel to The Three Caballeros (1945) should be. The story is called "3 Good Friends or The Three Caballeros 2" just to remind you. This was an idea that I've been having for a long time. I hope you guys enjoy it. Please support this story by reading and reviewing. I'll gladly take suggestions.**

To explain the Hummer. Jose custom built the thing. He apparently has a mechanic and engineer side. The interior was soft black leather. Everything smelt new, and there were plenty of ash trays. There were six seats in all, two in the front, two in the middle, and three in the back. It was basically a minivan that looked like a Hummer on the outside, which was the classic yellow.

Slash drove down the road, the jail/police station becoming a dot in the distance. Panchito sat next to him. Terry sat next to John in the middle seats, and Jose and Launchpad sat in the back two.

"How about some music?" Panchito said, pulling out his guitar from his sleeve. Simultaneously, everyone but Slash screamed to high heaven, "NO!" Panchito slowly but his guitar back, Slash laughed, "No, come on, I want to hear you play!" He said enthusiastically. Panchito looked at him, in part awe, confusion, joy, and more confusion. "Are you serious?" He asked. Slash nodded, "Yeah, come on, maybe I'll pull over and join you."

"You brought your guitar?" Panchito asked. Slash smiled, "Correction, you brought my guitar." Panchito patted himself, checking his shirt and sleeves. He fished around both of them, he even stuck his head in there a few times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Sounding like Mary Poppins, Panchito moved around his stuff that he had which included: a fishing pole, a tackle box, which was weird cause he never fished, a small TV, a dresser, a lamp, a mirror, several books, a pound of sugar, a pound of cocaine, a pound of medical marijuana, some steroids, a vintage phone, a grandfather clock that was his grandfathers, a baby grand piano, a plunger, boxing gloves, a punching bag, his black belts, his first place Kung-Fu trophies, his picture with Bruce Lee a month before he died, a casino card table, the Queen Mary, Indiana Jones' hat from Raiders of the Lost Ark that he 'borrowed' from the set, the gigantic rock from the same movie, the plane from that same movie, a Chewbacca suit, a lightsaber, the entire Terracotta Army, the bones of Robert Louis Stevenson, Dracula, and finally Dodger from _Oliver and Company_. He pulled out his head, and fished Dodger out who stared at him.

"Hey!" He said, his Brooklyn accent showing, "do you have any idea what the hell I've been through?" He asked.

"Lo siento Artful." Panchito said, calling the dog by his actual name. Dodger rolled his eyes, "It's just Dodger you nitwit." Panchito smiled, "Whatever." He said and passed him to Terry who just sat him down in the middle between him and John. "So," Dodger said looking around, "where are we headed?"

"To save Senor Donald Duck." Jose answered.

"Donald?" Dodger asked, "Is he the one with the temper tantrum?"

"Si, among other things." Panchito said.

"Oh fuck that," Dodger said, "hey driver, pull over want ya?"

Slash nodded and pulled over to the side and flashed the emergency lights. Terry opened the window and stepped out to let Dodger out and quickly came back in and closed the door. Dodger walked forward towards the front of the car. "Senor." Panchito said. Dodger stopped, turned, and looked up at him. "What?" He said. "We're going to need your nose." The rooster said with innocent eyes. "To help find that short tempered loud mouth asshole?" Dodger said. "Yeah, no." He laughed a bit, "See ya 'round." Panchito sighed and pulled out his guitar. Before started playing he fished around one more time and found Slash's guitar. The rooster handed Slash his guitar and looked at him with a subtle wink. Dodger rolled his eyes and started walking down the road. Then Panchito started playing, Slash turned off the music.

Panchito started the acoustic chords of Lynyrd Skynard's _Freebird_. Slash played the bass part. Dodger stopped, he knew this song, and he knew that Panchito knew that he knew this song well. They used to sing it together in bars whenever Panchito would visit New York. The rooster would always buy him a nice steak and then they'd go to a bar and sing Freebird. Panchito started singing, "If I leave here tomorrow? Would you still remember me? For I must be travelling on now. Cause there's too many place I've got to see. But if I stay here with you girl, things just couldn't be the same. Cause I'm as free as a bird now, and this bird you cannot change. Ohh, Ohh. And this bird you cannot change. And this bird you cannot change. Lord knows I can't change."

Dodger smiled and sang his part, sounding exactly like Ronny van Zant. "Bye, bye, baby it's been a sweet love, yeah, yeah. And though this feeling I can't change. Please don't take it so badly. Cause Lord knows I'm to blame. But if I stay here with you girl. Things just couldn't be the same. Cause I'm as free as a bird now. And this bird you cannot change, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh. And this bird you cannot change, and this bird you cannot change. Lord knows I can't change. Lord help me, I can't _cha-a-a-a-a-nge_. Lord I can't change, won't you fly high Freebird yeah!" Dodger pawed the  
car door and Terry opened it, the dog climbed in as Slash continued driving with his feet, as he and Panchito rocked out on the awesome guitar solo, with everyone else doing air guitar and head banging. They were carrying on like a bunch of idiots, the Hummer swerved left and right along the road. Horns were honking, lights were flashing, people were cussing, but they really didn't care, they were rocking out to the best guitar solo ever as they made their way towards the Sierra Nevada's.

Donald unfortunately, was not rocking out to Freebird. He was screaming his head off. Apparently Donald and Rat put too much coal in the engine, and the train was heading uncontrollably down a mountain. "If we die in this," Rat said trying to keep his body straight, "I'm blaming you."

"What?" Donald replied who was starting to have some trouble, "It was your idea!"

"Yes but you're the one you can't keep a girlfriend." Rat retorted.

"How does that have to do with anything!" Donald screamed holding on with one hand the nearest thing he could, the windowsill on the small window beside him. "We're basically freefalling down a fucking mountain and all you have to say is I can't keep a girlfriend?"

"Well you can't!" Rat said being a smartass.

"Don't you understand!" Donald said, grabbing Rat in his free hand, squeezing him, "we are going to die here as in be dead!" He squeezed harder, making Rat pull away from him. Suddenly they felt weightless as if being taken over by zero gravity. "What's going-" Rat said, but he was unable to finish his sentence because he just fell towards the open engine. Donald quickly closed the door with his foot just as Rat was about to enter the fire. "Thanks old boy." Rat said taking a deep breath. Donald fell too, only he hit the gears, buttons, and whistles. "You alright?" Rat asked. Donald nodded, "Yeah I think so."

Wilkes came in slowly, also fighting gravity, "Guys! What the hell is going on!"

Donald and Rat looked back at him, "Everything!" They shouted. "Oh," Wilkes nodded, "good then I'm not the only one."

"No shit!" Donald and Rat replied. Donald reached for the brakes and pulled them. The train wheels screeched. Crashing, dramatic music, fade out...

Slash drove like a manic, the radio blasting out classics like that of Boston, The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Black Sabbath, Metallica, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, and to Slash's dismay, Guns n Roses. "I hate listening to myself," Slash said in the middle of the Sweet Child of Mine guitar solo, "I want to hear other people play, they deserve some spotlight too." He said being humble. Panchito smiled and pulled out his acoustic, and very virtuoso of him, played _Fantasia_ by Armik. It was a sweet up and down chord meant for romantic moods, but the rooster figured that it really didn't matter, he just played whatever song was in his head. Héroe Soul sang like a angelic choir, the samba rhythm that Panchito gently tapped on the wooden frame rang out, reminding Jose of when he first showed Donald the samba, Terry of Jose's coffee, Dodger of a warm bed and food, and John just fell asleep. The rapid motion of sixteenth note after sixteenth note and the ever increasing tempo was executed with precise precision. _Fantasia _was after all, the first song Panchito learned how to play, and it was constantly in loop in his head, like a broken record that never got old. It got to a point where everyone except for John of course, was doing a simple samba step, sway back and forth and extending the arms as if one were dancing out on the floor with a beautiful Spanish woman, who smelt of sweet wine and perfume that caused every man in the world to fall and worship. They all had smiles on their faces, and if this woman did exist, they wouldn't let her go, but she would when the song was over. Her name was Elaine, a product Héroe Soul and Panchito's imagination. She was a figment of an old flame that Panchito had back in Mexico when he was a matador, and every day for three years he and his guitar would serenade her with words of romance and affection that can only be expressed with a guitar. For three years Panchito played his heart out for this woman, this beautiful woman who loved him, but she was murdered by a drug lord who thought she was getting in the way of business, for she was an active supporter of "Drug Free Mexico" a campaign started by the President to cease the drug trade, it failed miserably. Panchito caught the killer, Jose Montemayor but he couldn't save Elaine. After that Panchito went to El Paso and the rest is history. The major chords of _Fantasia_ have two meanings to the rooster, reminiscent of the woman he loved, and moving on from her. The sudden end, reminded Panchito that she could no longer be with her, but every time he picked up Héroe Soul and played, she would standing or sitting next to him, smiling, laughing, and carrying on as if she was still alive, as if nothing in the world mattered. Love does that kind of thing to you.

"That was beautiful man." Slash said getting a bit teary eyed as they entered the beginnings of the Sierra Nevada's.

"Muchos gracias." Panchito replied and put his faithful instrument back in his sleeve. His phone rang. _"All my friends, know the low rider. The low rider is a little higher, yeah. (Horns)" _

"Ahola, Panchito speaking." The rooster said.

"Hey Panchito, it's me Donald, you guys really need to hurry, there's been an accident..."

The train crashed into the valley of two mountains, in the exact same place the Donner Party was. If you don't know about the Donner Party, basically it was a group of pioneers during the age when the Oregon Trail was around, anyway, these guys got lost in the Sierra Nevada's and were stranded for a few months. In the end few survived, and those that did resorted to cannibalism to stay alive, but when you've ran out of food supply and are desperate, you're willing to try anything.

"Listen to me Panchito," Donald said, who was busy trying to get Wilkes and Barney out of the wreck. Rat was already out, and he was trying to find their bearings. "you know about the Donner Party right?"

"Si, of course I do."

"We're in the same spot, hurry, it's starting to snow." Donald replied, noticing that it was starting to snow rather hard, quick, and with the wind, it was blowing everywhere. In a half an hour the ground would be covered and visibility would be reduced to zero.

"Alright amigo just hold on, keep it together, we're on the way." Panchito assured.

"Wait, whose we?" Donald asked.

"Slash and Dodger are coming." Panchito said.

"Dodger?" Donald said a bit worried and confused, completely forgetting that Slash, one of his favorite people on Earth, who was one of the best people on Earth, was coming too. "You mean that egotistical temper tantrum asshole of a mutt who doesn't know anything about child care?" The duck asked. "Well he is called Artful Dodger for a reason." Panchito said being a smartass. "Don't be a smartass!" Donald cried, "I'm going to freeze my tail feathers off here and I'm going to lose Daisy! I don't want to lose her man, she's all I got." Panchito sighed, nodding, even though Donald couldn't see him. "I understand Donal', I really do, but you need to calm down alright, just breathe, and like I told you, we're coming to get you alright? Just be strong okay?"

"Alright, I'll try." Donald said, a bit of worry in his voice.

"No, you will! Trying is on what gets people like you killed." Panchito answered.

"What do you mean?" Donald replied, feeling a bit offended.

"You know, people who can't keep their love life and social life together, have other priorities out of whack, you've missed a week of work by the way, and you're constantly on the end of the rope!"

"Gee," Donald said, "thanks for the pick me up." He hung up, not really having the courtesy to say goodbye.

Donald drug out Wilkes who in turn, helped drag out Barney who was still passed out drunk. "Well," Wilkes said, "it looks like we're stuck here." He looked over and saw Walter looking around, animal instincts kicking in. "What are you doing?" Wilkes asked. Walter was sniffing the air, he was smelling for a water source, being a Water Rat, he had a sense for rivers, he knew everything there was to know about every single one. He knew the length, the width, the current flow, the fish that occupied them, when they froze over, when they melted, the elements and minerals that were in every river in the world memorized in his head. Streams and brooks too, basically, any body of water besides a lake, sea or ocean, Rat knew by heart. "Hello?" Wilkes said, noticing that Rat was still sniffing the air. "What is it?" Walter said, "You're breaking my concentration."

"What are you concentrating on?" Wilkes asked.

"I looking for a river." Walter said, "Rivers usually ninety percent of the time if not always lead to some sort of civilization. If we find one, we follow it, and eventually we'll find some place to rest, get our bearings and get this poor chap to New York." He said looking to Donald. "Have you called her yet?"

"No, my phone doesn't have enough battery to call anyone else." Donald said. "Anybody have a phone I could use?" Wilkes searched his pockets for his and pulled it out, Rat didn't even bother, because well, he's a rat and had no use for technology. "Thanks." Donald said as Wilkes handed him the phone and called Daisy.

Daisy was busy putting on makeup, sitting in front of a salon table with a mirror. Her reflection made look older by twenty years, and there was nothing wrong with the mirror. The fashion line would premiere tomorrow night and she was trying on different makeup to see which one looked the best. "What do you think?" She said turning around to her boss, Westin Potts, a businessman who had the creepy smile, the blonde hair, he was basically every Lannister from Game of Thrones put into one person. "I think which ever shows out your eyes, they're beautiful." He said putting on a charming snake smile. Daisy giggled, "You really think my eyes are beautiful?" She asked. "They are like pools of stars." Westin said, trying to butter Daisy up. She blushed, "Oh stop it," she said grabbing the puff ball and patting her face. "besides, we need to-"

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

"Answer the phone!" She said gaily.

"Hello this is Daisy from Daisy Designs how may I help you?" She said.

"Daisy, it's me Donald."

"Oh Donald! I was just about to call and see if you were on the way, you are on the way aren't you?" She asked.

"Yeah, about that, I'm sort of delayed." Donald said.

"At the airport I bet." Daisy answered, "They're always delayed at the airport, you know just the other day I was flying to Chicago to meet a friend went the flight was delayed for four whole hours. Four whole hours! I told the flight attendant at the front desk that I would not be sitting here for four hours. She told me that if I want to go to Chicago that I would, but I said to her, 'Do you have any idea who you're talking to, I'm Daisy Duck! Founder, CEO of Daisy Designs, the leading fashion line for seven years in a row.' She didn't listen to me and I told her 'Well you need to find another flight real quick!' She assured me that there wasn't any available so I played stowaway. So," she said, finally taking a breath, "what airport are you in?" She asked.

"I'm not at the airport Daisy," Donald said, "I'm in the Sierra Nevada's."

"You're still in California! I knew it! You can't be trusted anymore, not only that, but do you have any idea what you put Huey, Dewy, and Louey through? They're sick! They miss you terribly, they're going through withdraw. Withdraw! Huey started cigarettes, Dewy is gambling, and Louey is behaving like-like- well," she paused, "like Panchito." Donald smiled and laughed, "That can't be good."

"This is serious Donald, are you coming or not?" Daisy asked.

"I'll be there I promise!" Donald said.

"The last time you said that you missed a game, before that it was a movie, and before that it was date with me, you can't let them down again, you can't let me down again either. I just don't think I can do this." She said, grabbing a tissue and crying a bit.

"Please don't cry." Donald said, crying himself, hating to see her like this and feeling like if he were there then his nephews wouldn't be doing any of this crap. He shivered, his body was cold, and his heart was breaking. The snow was falling fast. "Daisy," Donald said whispering. "What!" She screamed. "I don't want to hear anymore."

"Just listen for a second please, I don't know if I'll ever see you again!" Donald screamed.

"What are you saying?" Daisy said, shock in her voice.

"I'm in the middle of a snow storm." Donald elaborated.

Daisy cried again, "I don't want to lose you Donald, but you will lose me if you don't pull through. Right here. Right now."

"I don't know what to say expect, I'm sorry." Donald said, the cold was starting to get to him. His feet were turning blue, his beak was shaking, ice began to form on his arms. "Sorry? That's the best you can come up with!" Daisy screamed. "I hope you freeze to death." She motioned to hang up the phone.

"No wait Daisy please, I-" Donald said, he paused and sighed. "I love you Daisy." Silence. "Daisy, are you still there?" Donald asked. Silence. "Daisy?" He asked again. "I don't think I can say that about you Donald. I'm sorry." She said. Donald lowered his head and his tears froze as they fell to the ground, melting the snow. "Donald are you still there?" Daisy asked. Donald didn't answer right away, he just sang his heart's song. The song that was playing at Daisy's mother's funeral. The most fitting song for death and life. The most fitting song for his situation, and the one that made his heart break the loudest and the hardest. "Tell me somethin', give me hope for the night. We don't know how we feel." Daisy recognized the words, she knew what this song meant, and she sang it too, "We're just prayin' that we're doin' this right. Though that's not the way it seems. Summer gone, now winter's on its way. I will miss the days we had. The days we had. I will miss the days we had. The days we had. Oh, I'll miss the days we had." The snow was thickening up, Walter huddled up with Wilkes and Barney, who was still drunk, but awake. Donald just stood in his spot, near the train wreckage, figuring that when he was done he could huddle back in there, it would be warmer than out in the elements. "Loving, leaving, it's too late for this now. Such esteem for each has gone. Has time driven our season away? Cause that's the way it seems. In the world of the speech that is new. I'll be back again to stay. Again to stay. I'll be back again to stay. Again to stay. I'll be back again to stay." Donald and Daisy both stopped, they knew in their hearts and in their heads that they weren't saying goodbye or breaking up any time soon. They loved each other too much. Daisy cried a bit, "I'm sorry Donald," she said, "I'm so sorry." Donald nodded, "It's alright Daisy, don't worry, I'll be there tomorrow."

"Donald don't you worry about that it's alright, it's no big deal." Daisy said feeling regretful and guilty.

"No, it's not okay if I'm not there, I promised you that I would be there, and I'm going to keep it. I don't want to lose you." Donald said.

"You're not going to lose me," Daisy replied. "Yes I will," Donald said, "I will because your heart will no longer love me, your brain and mouth might say that you do but your heart will hate me if I don't pull through. Daisy, what's the point of love if you can't all of it? I want you to love me because you do, not because you feel sorry or pity, or just because you say you do. I want you to mean it. If I'm not there by tomorrow, then you can leave, I'll never see you again." Donald said.

"Don't leave me like this," Daisy said with tears, "I still want you."

"Then I'll be there." Donald said and hung up the phone, as soon as did so the battery died. He turned to Wilkes. "Sorry about that."

"I-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-s-s-s-s o-k-k-k-k-a-y D-d-d-d-d-d-d-Donald. I-I-I-I-I." Donald smiled as best he could and walked over, joining in on the awkward group hug. Rat looked at all of them, "So, this is on how the male penguin feels like. Standing next to your friend shivering your ass off while you and wait and wait and wait for your woman to return shopping while you babysit and annoying little brat." He paused, "I wonder if there is any account of penguin AIDS?" Donald and Wilkes looked at him in shock, but did nothing because of the necessity for warmth. Barney just laughed like a drunk. "He he, penguin AIDS."


	24. The Caballeros

**Chapter Nine: The Caballeros Are The Family You Never Want But Always Need**

**Note: This chapter is a bit sappy/emotional. Just a break from the comedy a little. Don't get me wrong, this chapter has funny moments, but it's overall a bit dramatic in the end. The next chapter perks up, trust me. Glad you guys can stick with it, just hold on, from here, it gets worse for these guys. **

**Please Review! (Does the drama continue or stop the story, I need your thoughts?) **

Slash drove through the mountains, the snow was so thick that the windshield wipers stopped working and the anti-freeze froze up. The engine died. _Prrft. Prrft. Prrft. Spit. Spat. Hiss. _Silence.

"Well," Slash said, "the car's dead."

"Great," Dodger rolled his eyes, complaining a bit, "now what are we going to do?"

"Hoof it." John said. Dodger laughed and looked at him, "Um, no I'm staying here thank you."

"Oh come on," Terry said, "it's just a little snow." Dodger gave Terry a stern look, one that you don't necessarily want from him either. "It's six fucking feet out there!" He said motioning towards the window with his paw. "Alright Artful," Panchito said, "you don't have to go if you don't want to, we'll just dig Donald's frozen corpse up and make funeral arrangements." Dodger sighed, "You guilt tripped me into this Hummer, might as well guilt trip me out of this Hummer." They all exited the Hummer.

The cold hit them like a hard punch to the groin. They were not dressed for the weather, they were already suffering from hypothermia. Their fingers, wings, and paws alike were already turning blue. "Let's get this over with." Dodger said, sticking his nose in the snow. He started shaking. "Jesus it's cold!" He shouted. "Oh stop complaining Artful and get to work, you look in this direction, and I'll look in that direction." Panchito said telling Dodger to venture onward, while Panchito veered slightly to the left and headed in basically the same direction. Slash just stayed in the Hummer, trying to see if he could start it.

Jose, Terry, John, and Launchpad split themselves up between the two. Terry and Launchpad followed Dodger while John and Jose followed Panchito.

They walked eight miles in the snow, wind, and freezing rain by the time the sun set. They were all frozen but they still pressed on, each one hopeful to find their friend. Panchito sat down in the snow next to a large hill. "Alright," he said exhausted, "I'm officially beat." He said, rubbing his feet which were blue and frostbitten. Jose was shaking, not used to the cold weather, "Do you think we can s-s-start a fi-fi-fi-fire Panchito? It's getting colder, darker, and I don't think I can," he coughed, all those years of cigar smoking and brandy drinking were starting to catch up to him. "make it." John looked at the parrot, "Yeah, great idea, we'll start a fire with snow and ice and more snow and ice. Look around you, there's nothing here to burn!" Panchito groaned to himself and just laid back in the snow, no longer caring at this point. "Just let me die." He said half joking and half serious. John and Jose shrugged their shoulders and flopped down in the same manner next to the rooster. They all three groaned and turned over to their left side. Panchito quickly turned back over on his back and pulled out a harmonica that he secretly carried. It was silver with gold accents. It was worth more than a Lamborghini, sounded like a symphony orchestra, and Panchito was just as good at playing it as he was the guitar. He played a harmonica version of "Mi Amigo" by Kings of Leon. This was the song that Jose would sing in bars.

As Panchito played the arrangement version he himself coined, Jose began to sing. "I've got a friend. Shows me all the good times, tells me I look better. Chews me up and spits me out and then walks my ass home. And sings a song, when I'm gone, gone," Panchito stopped playing for a moment and backed Jose up. "Gone." This word was elongated, like all artists do. Just then the two birds heard the vowels that would normally be the guitar beat. "Ba da da da da..." It was faint, and sounded like a dead person was singing it. Jose was about to sing again when Panchito put his hand over his mouth. The rooster played Neil Young's Heart of Gold, the song that Donald was in charge of singing. The rooster played the opening chords and listened for any sort of sound. Silence. "Exactly what are you guys doing?" John asked.

"Shh." The two birds said and Panchito continued playing the song until the actual lyrics were supposed to occur. "I wanna live, I wanna give, I've been a miner for a heart of gold, it's these expressions I never give keep me searching for a heart of gold, and I'm getting old. Keep me searching for a heart of gold and I'm getting old." Panchito and Jose smiled, "Donal'!" They cried in unison, scrambling to their feet, not caring if their bodies were numb or frozen, the voice gave them new vigor. "Donald where are you amigo?" Panchito said, frantically searching through the snow. "Keep singing!" John suggested. This time Donald choose a different song, "You can go your own way, go your own way, you can call it another lonely day!" Jose located the duck, half frozen in the snow with Rat in his arms motionless. Rat's body was entirely frozen and was blue. Jose removed his hat and helped Donald to his feet. "Are you alright?" He asked. Donald shook his head, "Let's see, I'm freezing, I have severe hypothermia, and I'm going into s-s-sh-shock. Y-y-you te-te-tell me i-f-f-if I'm o-o-o-okay." Jose nodded, "Amigos!" Jose cried, breaking into Portuguese. " Pressa ele é congelamento até a morte!" Panchito and John rushed over and two man carried Donald to the Hummer.

Slash tried the ignition, _Prrft. Prrft. Prrft._ He groaned. "Damn it!" He shouted. He sighed, pushed his gigantic mess of his hair away from his eyes and pulled out his guitar. He started playing Boston's "Don't Look Back" and started singing the song too. "Don't look back. A new day is breakin'. It's been too long since I felt this way." The car engine started, as if by magic. Then again, it was Jose's Hummer. Slash smiled and continued playing, faster, harder, and flawlessly because he's freaking Slash. The gas tank filled up, for it was almost empty, even the mileage went down all the way to zero. The miles per gallon skyrocketed to a beautiful sixty miles to the gallon. Panchito and John came back with Donald in tow. Behind them was Jose, who carried Rat, who still lay motionless. The rooster tapped on the passenger window. Slash paused to open the door and quickly opened the door. "Sing!" He shouted. "Sing?" Panchito said as he placed Donald in the front seat. "Yeah, sing!" Panchito shrugged his shoulders and complied, recognizing the song. Donald and Jose knew this too.

"I can see, it took so long just to realize. I'm much too strong not to compromise." Donald and Jose sang the back up. Panchito sang the lead as always, letting Slash play the guitar. "Now I see what I am is holding me down. I'll turn it around. Yeah, yes I will!" The chorus came around and everyone entered the car.

"I finally see the dawn arrivin', I see beyond the road I'm drivin'. It's a bright horizon and I'm awakin' now. Oh I see myself in a brand new way the sun is shinin', the clouds are breakin'. 'Cause I can't lose now, there's no game to play. I can tell there's no more time left to criticize. I've seen what I could not recognize!" They all sang and went through the song, you can pretty much guess how this goes. Moving on.

Dodger, Launchpad, and Terry went towards the eastern side of the Sierra's. They trudged and walked, their feet frozen, and Dodger was still trying to come up with a scent. He inhaled, long and deep, "I got nothing." He said. "Oh come on," Terry encouraged, "you can do it."

"Y-y-y-yeah," Launchpad said, shivering, "I-I-I-I believe in you."

"Oh how touching." Dodger said looking at the duck, "I'm really moved, why don't we all sing 'Camp Town Races' and have marshmallows? I'm freezing my ass off, you're dying, and he's-" Dodger looked at Terry who was nowhere to be seen. "great." Dodger said rolling his eyes and looked at me, "Now we gotta find this loser too huh?"

Yeah you kind of do.

"Alright if we absolutely have to." Dodger huffed and continued sniffing following his nose.

Launchpad followed, he continued shivering, his beak had ice on it. "Can you hurry it up Dodger, my beak is gonna break off!" Dodger ignored him, he just walked forward and sniffed the ground, long and hard as if meditating. "Hold it," he said, "I found something." Dodger stopped and sat down waiting patiently for Launchpad to come beside him. "What is it?" Launchpad said, looking at the ground, seeing nothing. Dodger laid down in the snow, saying nothing. He was seeing something that Launchpad didn't. Something in the snow. Dodger whimpered and nudged the snow a bit as if he were mourning. "What's up Dodger?" Launchpad said, trying to comfort the dog. Dodger still didn't answer him, he cleared away some snow and revealed the dead hand of a woman. "Jesus!" Launchpad cried, jumping about three feet back. Just then, footsteps.

If there was ever a time for creepy dramatic music it would now. The footsteps were running, they were heavy, and the breathing of this running person could be heard. It was like every horror movie villain was breathing at the same time, yes, including Darth Vader.

Dodger lifted his head as the music intensified. He turned to me for second. "Hey, shut that shit down." The music stopped. "Thank you." He said and bravely ventured on. He turned back towards Launchpad, "Run." Dodger said. Launchpad nodded and scrambled into action, running in the opposite direction towards the Hummer. Dodger walked forward, the running man was moving closer and closer and closer until finally he came into partial view. Dodger's fur stood straight up as he got into his defensive position. The running man continued, almost as if he was charging. Dodger started barking viciously, his instinct taking over for the moment. The man continued running, harder this time. Dodger growled and barked again, this time louder, longer, and with more force. This time the man who was running came into full view, it was Terry. He was wearing a spiffy thick royal blue winter coat and looked like a Iditarod participant. Dodger eased up. "What the hell man!" He yelled, "You scared the shit out of me." Terry smiled, "Yeah, literally." Dodger turned towards his backside and noticed that a large brown piece of shit was hanging out of his ass. He rolled his eyes and quickly sat down, big mistake. He cringed. Terry laughed a bit, "That's going to hurt in the morning." Dodger nodded, "Yeah," still cringing, "it'll be wonderful, where the hell did you go?" Terry turned back and pointed, "I found a cabin." He said, "Here," he pulled out a nice warm blanket from his coat pocket and put it around Dodger. "maybe this'll help."

"Thanks," Dodger replied, "hey where'd you get all this anyway?" Terry shrugged his shoulders, "Some random guy named Fluke."

"Fluke?" Dodger looked at Terry skeptical, as he should be. "Yeah, that's what I said to, but you really don't complain when there's a fire and food." Terry said. "Food?" Dodger asked, "What we talking about here?"

"Turkey, Ham, Mashed Potatoes, the works. I told him about all of us and he said he has enough, he invited us to dinner." Terry said. "Great!" Dodger exclaimed, "his tail wagging, "let's get back to the gang and head to this cabin, I'm starving!"

The Hummer didn't move, Slash turned on the heat, and Panchito was the biggest hog ever. He threw himself upon the air conditioning fans as if he were in some romantic movie where he was running across a beach towards a lover and the wind non-realistically was blowing in his face. When he was done, he was toasty warm. He hugged himself to make sure that none of the heat escaped. "All nice and toasty!" He said. "Y-y-y-yeah," Jose stuttered, still cold. "you're a selfish hog you know that!"

"Seriously dude, there is something wrong with you." Slash retorted. "Will you guys just shut up! I'm trying to get some sleep!" John screamed, from his leaned over shoulder. The birds and Slash looked at him and were all thinking the same thing so they did it. They placed a finger in front of their mouths, "Shh." They all pointed towards Rat who was still kind of dead-looking.

Slash turned on the radio, the classical music station. "Let's all just be quiet for a little while huh?" He suggested, and all of them agreed, each of them taking a breather and closing their eyes.

Rat awoke to Mozart's Lacrimosa. He looked around and saw that everyone was sleeping and that it was comfortably warm. He also noticed that he was being held by Jose, who gripped him like a child would a teddy bear. Slowly, trying not to disturb him, Rat wiggled out of Jose's hand and stood on his torso, stretching his legs. He yawned. "Well," he said, "I wonder where we are?" Jose opened his eyes and smiled, "Ahola Senor Walter, glad to see your awake." Walter nodded and sat down on the parrot's torso. "You don't mind do you?" Walter asked. Jose shook his head. "No, not at all," he noticed that the Water Rat was looking down. "What's wrong?" The parrot asked. "I just can't believe that they're dead." Walter said. "Dead?" Jose asked. "Who senor?"

"A kindly train conductor and his engineer, a poor drunk. They were crazy, insane, possibly needed to go to hospital, but, it just isn't fair you know?" Walter said.

Jose nodded, "Well, they're in a better place 'ey?" Walter nodded. "I also miss home," he said, "although it's a complete and total shit hole thanks to big business, I can clean it up, bring it back to what it once was. In fact, I'm almost certain that all of that is gone now," he smiled optimistically, "I wonder on how Mole is doing." He laughed a bit and thought about Cyril. "There was one time where me and Cyril went out to the grocery store, and we," he laughed again, being careful not to wake everyone else up, "we went to buy ingredients for a stew, some raw meat, a fish, vegetables, carrots, greens, that sort of thing. When we got up to the counter to check out," he started laughing uncontrollably, "the cashier asked, 'that'll be sixty pounds'. 'Sixty pounds!' I said, not really amused, so old Cyril clocked the poor chap out and we ran out with all the goods. The police were completely oblivious because you know, a horse and a rat aren't expected to shop for groceries. The best part though," he smiled, "was that we used Toad's allowance money! He was furious, but then again, Toad is a blockhead." Jose smiled, although he didn't find a single word of what Rat said to be funny, he listened anyway. He was a good soul, and Walter was about to say something that would make Jose go to the edge of the earth for him.

"I have a confession to make, do you mind if I tell you?" Walter said.

Jose shook his head and waited, _probably something ridiculous. _The parrot thought. "I have a special place in my heart for visiting my sister this time of year. She's in New York City. Don't tell Donald that." Walter said. "Alright," Jose said, "you know you don't have to ask to come along, you're family now!" Walter smiled, "I thank you Mr. Carioca but you see, my wife, she's not well, and has been for some time. I'm afraid that she won't make Christmas, and the doctor's doubt she'll make Thanksgiving." Jose stared at him. "Then we need to speed it along then!" The parrot exclaimed, but he forgot his manners and startled John awake. "What part of shut the fuck up don't you understand!" He yelled, his eyes still closed and his brain half-asleep. "John wake up! We have a desperate mission." John opened his eyes and looked at the parrot. "Who's dead?" He asked. "My sister," Rat replied, "or she's about to be." John huffed, "Oh." Rat flipped him off, "I'm sorry that I'm not good enough for you to help me, but for Pete's sake have a heart!" He hopped over the parrot and into the back seat, next to John. "I know I'm a rat, and it probably would be better for you if I was a human being or something, I'm not. You're just going to have to deal with that, and believe it or not, I have a limbic system just like everybody else. So please, I need you to help me!" John nodded, "I'm sorry." He said.

"You should be." Rat glared as he hopped down from the seat and walked towards the car door. "Open the door Jose." He said. Jose nodded and opened the door, letting the heat escape and the cold enter the van, everyone woke up, startled from the change in temperature. "What the hell Jose!" Panchito cried. "Yeah, what gives?" Slash said. Rat jumped out into the snow and nodded. Jose motioned to close the door.

"Rat, tell me what's wrong?" Jose said with deep concern. Rat sighed, "I need to see my sister Mr. Carioca, and sitting here isn't going to do any good. So, farewell." He extended his paw and Jose reluctantly shook it. "No," the parrot said, "I'm not going to let you face it alone." Rat smiled, "You would travel completely out of your way just to help a poor old Rat meet his sister?"

"Of course! You're a caballero!" Jose exclaimed with as much excitement one could in the freezing cold.

"I'm not a caballero, I'm a gentleman." Walter said. "Um..." The parrot started to say when Walter cut him off, "Wait, don't tell me, it's the same damn thing isn't it?" Jose nodded, "Si."

Dodger, Terry, and Launchpad ran back towards the Hummer, almost ramming into Jose and Rat. "Come on!" Dodger called, "We know where are and we're getting the hell out of frozen hell." He said, not bothering to stop, hoping that the two would duck or open the door. Neither happened and the parrot and rat flinched in fear and Dodger just skidded to a halt, giving himself a burn. "What the hell are you guys doing!" He said, safely stopping. New York City saw to that. "Cowering in fear of you." Jose said. "Really am I that intimidating?" Dodger asked as he walked towards the Hummer. "No sir, you're just..."

"Not approachable?" Terry added.

"Conceited and egoistical?" Launchpad added.

"Yes," Dodger answered proudly, "now come on let's get it before I force you guys to." They all entered the van, pilling up and squishing themselves to fit. "Alright," Slash said, once everyone was uncomfortably situated. Dodger was in the middle of the two captain seats behind the front and passenger. Terry was next to John, who was next to Donald. Launchpad was on the floor behind Dodger, curled up in a ball, and Rat just sat quietly in Jose's lap, as if the parrot were the only person he could trust in the entire world. "where are we going?" Slash asked. "Head northwest, you should see a cabin." Terry said, and off they were once more.

With everyone awake now that they were on the move, Rat looked up at Jose with sympathetic eyes that told the bird not to speak a word of what they talked about. Jose nodded and moved his fingers across his lips, zipping them shut. To lighten the mood, Slash replayed Boston, and even though they already listened to the song, it was a feel good song that really helped lift up everyone's experience of pure hell that was the Sierra Nevada's. Panchito laughed, "If this on what the Donner Party went through, oh boy, I'm glad you guys made it out okay."

"Yeah," Dodger replied, "I'm glad to."

Panchito smiled, "So, you looking for a home?" He asked, secretly wanting a dog.

Panchito was denied pets as a kid, but when you have seventy-seven siblings, that constantly torture and beat you into submission, it makes owning a dog or a cat difficult. Besides, if there was one other reason why Panchito didn't own a dog, it was because of his father. Panchito's father was a crazy psychopathic weirdo when it comes to dogs. He's obsessive. His room is full of calendars, figurines, rugs, covers, pillow cases, curtains, books, all dog related. He even has a dog house in there. All throughout his life Panchito wondered why his father was like that, so when he was about nine, he asked his father. "Padre, why do you have so many dog stuff?" He asked. His father's eyes twitched, and he smiled, "Well son," he said excitedly (this is where Panchito gets everything from, the apple didn't fall far from the tree). "Let me tell you about my favorite type of breeds..." he went on and on about the health issues, environmental conditions, training, how to groom and maintain, the basics, competition dogs, work dogs, large sized dogs that are mistaken for horses, medium sized dogs that are mistaken for horses, and smaller sized dogs that are just too cute to be mistaken. He was the living embodiment of fanatic and it drove Panchito and his seventy-seven siblings crazy. So when Panchito asked Dodger "So, you looking for a home?" He immediately thought of his father and shuttered a bit, smiling as he did so. Like I said, Panchito got most of his qualities from his father: the constant yelling, the constant talking, the guns (his father's), the belt (his father's), the red shirt and pants (his father's), his sombrero (his father's), his laugh was the same, their eyes were the same, their voice were harmonious. In short, Panchito is the spitting image of his father, and he choose it to be that way. Panchito's father was killed by a bandit lord in the early 2000's, and ever since then he's been trying to work with the Mexican government to bring the drug, and illegal activity circuits down to their knees. They have had minimal success and the killer was still out there. Always in the back of his mind, Panchito had the strangest idea that he was being followed, or always in the presence of his father's killer, he just didn't do anything about it. One because he couldn't prove anything, and two, because there were people around. Panchito's motto was simple, if you have to kill, don't do it in front of people, you don't want to scar them for life.

"So, you looking for a home?" Panchito said to Dodger feeling a sense of déjà vu. "Not really." Dodger answered. "Great, you can come live with us." Panchito answered. Terry looked at the dog, no longer caring if Panchito ruined his life further, it couldn't get any worse. "What the hell." He said. Panchito laughed hardy, the ghost of his father coming back. "Bienvenido a la familia!" He cried. Dodger looked around and smiled, "Some family this is." He said, laying down to try and rest a minute. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and thought about the idea, his tail wagged. Dodger knew that in his big over pumped heart of his, a family is exactly what he wanted, needed, and he personally didn't care if it consisted of four birds, a police officer, a wimpy nerd who can't get a job, and a guitar legend. He figured that Slash would be like the weird crazy uncle that everybody has. Terry would strangely be the sister, Jose would strangely be the mother. Rat was grandfather who knew everything, Donald was the guy with the temper issues and had to go to rehab every few months, Launchpad was the younger brother, John was the older one, and Panchito would be the best friend. In his head, this on what Dodger pictured his new found family to be like for him, then he paused his thoughts for a moment and considered what he would consider himself as if he were a member of a family. _Simple._ He smiled and laughed a bit, _I'm the rebellious teenager. _He opened his eyes and looked around at everyone, _so, we're like The Breakfast Club cast, but with more people, and less Molly Ringwald. _Appropriately, "Don't You Forget About Me" was playing on the radio. Dodger rolled his eyes and sang quietly to himself. "Don't you, forget about me..."


End file.
